Holy Innocents

Matthew 2:13-23

Pastor Tom Johnson, December 29, 2013

Just a few days ago, we celebrated the birth of the Christ Child. He is born in true innocence. His life is a gift from God to the whole world. Through this child people from all nations will receive forgiveness and eternal life. Today’s Gospel reading is about the Holy Innocents—the massacre of children two years and younger in and around the town of Bethlehem. God’s angel warns Joseph in a dream to flee the country into Egypt to escape Herod’s wrath. Perhaps they were only able to afford this move because of the gold, frankincense, and myrrh—the gifts of the Magi.

But what about all the children left behind? How could the Roman authorities allow Herod to kill toddlers, infants, and newborns? Why didn’t God send his angels to warn the other fathers and mothers of young children? In a perverse sense of irony, these young babies are the first Christian martyrs of the Church. The blood of innocent babes is shed because of the promise of the Messiah. I wish this was simply a legend or folktale that crept into Scripture. But it isn’t. You can see the bones of these children for yourself in the Cave of the Holy Innocents in Bethlehem today. Perhaps some of you have.

Our Gospel says this was to fulfill the Scripture: “A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.” Parents naturally refused to be consoled for such a tragic loss. No parent should have to mourn the death of their children. It violates the natural order of life and death. How much more those lives cut short by a ruthless despot like Herod? What do you say to a parent who loses a child? What can you say to the grandparents? How do you explain what happened to their older brothers and sisters? How can you console such grief? It seems to me that no explanation, no affection, no Scripture, no theology...nothing could ease the pain of loss of these young families. Rachel refused to be consoled. These parents in Bethlehem refuse to be consoled. And I, too, reject any pat answers or easy remedy for the very difficult path of grief that any of us endure. The Christmas season is difficult for many people for precisely the same reason. The birth of the Messiah can sometimes be overshadowed by tragic loss. The very first Christmas was accompanied by great tragedy.

This story also points back to the sufferings of God’s people who found refuge in Egypt before—when Pharaoh tried to kill all the male Hebrew children. God heard their cries and sent Moses to deliver them from 300 hundred years of slavery. God also hears the cries of Rachel and these young families in Bethlehem who lost their children. A new and better Moses will be raised up in Egypt. And he will grow strong and lead his people out of a deeper captivity, slavery, and death. And his name is Jesus. As Matthew tells his Gospel account, he courageously names the pain and loss. He does not sugarcoat it. But he continues to tell the story of Jesus and how this Christ Child will bring life and hope to the world.

He will tell the rest of the story of how the One who was born in true innocence will continue to be tempted in every way that we are, yet, without sin. He will tell how other people in authority will lash out in violence to hold onto their power—the high priest Caiaphas, Herod’s son, and Pontius Pilate. There will be more casualties of war and tragic collateral damage before Jesus himself spills his blood on the cross. There will be more martyrs to follow beginning with Stephen. And, sadly, there are more even today. There are Christians who are persecuted all over the world. Prince Charles just issued a statement a week ago condemning the violence against Christians particularly in North Africa and the Middle East.

This morning we are reminded that these little children are the first to show the way of the cross. Ultimately, their lives and death point to their Savior. In Jesus Christ we have a High Priest who is able to identify with our sufferings. For he too suffered for our sake. He overcame the powers, the principalities, and our captivity to sin and death. In time, Rachel and the other parents will no longer refuse to be comforted. Jesus, the innocent and spotless lamb, will take away our guilt and assure us of eternal life. God the Father will lose his only Son to tragic loss. But in giving his Son for the life of the world, he adopts these holy innocents just as he adopts all of us through Baptism and our faith in him. And like the little ones who have gone before us, he will one day gather us up into his eternal embrace.

“Unwilling to expose her to public disgrace”

Matthew 1:18-25



Pastor Tom Johnson, December 22, 2013

Mary and Joseph. They are on Christmas cards with Mary on a donkey and Joseph leading her to Bethlehem. In the manger scene, they look adoringly at their infant King. We sing nostalgically about the baby Jesus and his two-parent home. This morning we hear in our Gospel and we confess that Jesus was “conceived by the Holy Spirit.” and “born of the virgin Mary.” We remember that Mary was a young, unmarried woman at this time. She was engaged to Joseph. They still lived with their families. They were both saving themselves for marriage.

When God called Mary to be the mother of our Lord, he was calling her to walk by faith not by sight. But He was also calling her to bear a huge burden—to bear potential shame—and possible rejection—of her family, friends, and future husband. For a woman to be pregnant and unmarried was scandalous in the first century. It would have brought shame to her, her family, and her fiancé. Imagine how much more shame it would bring if her fiancé was not the father. The fact that Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the virgin Mary is miraculous; but it also complicates things. Somehow Joseph finds out that Mary is pregnant. Maybe she tried to tell him the story of how the angel came to her. But it may have been too far-fetched of a story for him to believe. Nothing like that has ever happened before. No one just gets pregnant like that. I imagine Joseph thought that Mary was either coming up with an elaborate lie to cover herself or that she was not well mentally.

Our text says that Joseph was “resolved to dismiss her quietly.” There was really no alternative but to call off the engagement. He could not marry someone who seems to have so badly betrayed him. We know the rest of the story. But Joseph does not at this point. He only knows that his fiancé is pregnant and that he is not the father. But here is the amazing thing about Joseph: Joseph still loves Mary.  Despite the fact that it appears that Mary has allegedly broken her promise, he does not want her to suffer public disgrace or the wrath of those who would call upon Mosaic Law—this surely would be the death of her.

Joseph gives us a foretaste of this unborn Child who will one day show the strength of mercy over the letter of the Law. He shows us how grace surpasses judgment. “He is unwilling to expose her to public disgrace—unwilling put her to shame.” He wants her reputation to be untarnished. He will go quietly into the night and not make a fuss. He will protect her honor as well as his own. Joseph’s love for Mary is astounding. We know that because our text says that continued to think about her day to day even while laid there falling asleep with his head on his pillow. Because, our Scripture says, “as he considered these things…an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream.” The angel tells Joseph to not fear. “Do not fear.” “Don’t break it off with Mary. She is not pregnant by another man. She is pregnant by the Holy Spirit.” Joseph is encouraged to go through the marriage and adopt her infant Son as his own. And that is exactly what Joseph does. He overcomes his fear. He takes courage. He returns to Mary’s house. And probably to her amazement, and to the amazement of her parents, Joseph will take her as his bride.

Not only is Joseph an amazing example of a husband in this story, he himself exemplifies and illustrates the love of God—the love that God has for us in His Son, Jesus Christ, this infant child who is our Bridegroom—our Betrothed—our Husband. We are the Bride of Christ. We hope and long for our Husband who comes and prepares the Marriage Supper of the Lamb in his Kingdom which will have no end. Our wedding day is draws near. And like Mary, there is cause to put us to public disgrace and open shame. But unlike Mary, we are guilty of unfaithfulness. We deserve to be put to open shame. We deserve for God to go quietly into eternity and leave us behind in our brokenness and guilt. But like Joseph, God is unwilling to put us to public disgrace. He still loves us. He knows we are guilty. But he loves us all the same. That is why Jesus was born—so that God would be with us, save us from our sin, betroth us, and marry us.

It is that same Babe born in a manger to Joseph and Mary who comes for us. He not inclined to abandon us even though we have broken our promises. He is unwilling to expose us to public disgrace. Instead, he claims us as his own. He takes us as his Bride. And one day, he will carry us across the threshold to our heavenly home. And so we pray, “Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.”

"Doubting John"

Matthew 11:2-15

Pastor Tom Johnson, December 15, 2013

During Advent, John the Baptist prepares the way of the Lord. He prepared people for the Messiah’s first coming. And he prepares us for his second coming. Perhaps one of the unlikely ways he prepares us is by his honest struggle with who Jesus is.

You’ll remember that from the very beginning, he questioned why Jesus would need to be baptized. “I need to be baptized by you, Jesus! You don’t need cleansing or repentance.” But Jesus assures him that it is to fulfill righteousness. And so John baptizes Jesus to make his baptism the foundation of our baptism—a baptism of perfect righteousness. As John baptizes Jesus, a voice says, “This my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.” The Holy Spirit, appears and descends upon Jesus. And so God strengthens John’s faith and leads the way to strengthen our faith.

We are reminded that John the Baptizer is human—a little odd, perhaps, but flesh and blood nonetheless. In our Gospel reading, Jesus comments on John’s wardrobe. He says, “What did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes—a suit and tie? Suits and ties are for politicians. You went out to see a prophet.” And Jesus tells us he is unlike any other prophet. He is the greatest. He is a greater prophet because his ministry immediately precedes the unveiling of the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth. But even though John is lifted up and esteemed by Jesus, he not so nicely treated by Herod and his vengeful wife. Herod has John arrested for speaking out about his marriage—that he married his brother’s wife. And so, Herod throws John in prison.

I imagine that was a huge change for John. He is used to living in the wide and open wilderness. Now he is living in a small cell. He is used to being free to go from place to place. Now he is in chains. He is used to having a large audience to speak to publicly and disciples to speak to privately. Now he is alone. John is most likely lonely, suffering, discouraged, and more susceptible to temptation than ever before. He wants to be assured that his life’s work was worth it. He has faith in Jesus as the Messiah but he needs his faith strengthened. And so he asks Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another.” Does this sound like the same prophet who, when he saw Jesus, cried out, “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!”?

It is interesting how many people want to understand John’s question in any other way than a struggle with Jesus’ identity and his own mission. But the more I think about it, the less surprising it is. I even find it comforting. You’ll remember the father of a boy who was oppressed by an unclean spirit—how Jesus told the father that his son would be healed if he believed. And the father said, “I believe, help my unbelief.” And so Jesus both healed the boy as well as helped to strengthen the man’s faith. You’ll remember how Thomas refused to believe that Jesus rose from the dead and said, “Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe” (Jn 20). It was that same Thomas, who when he saw Jesus in his glorious, new Body gave us one of the greatest confessions of faith in the Bible. He said, “My Lord and My God!” Jesus strengthens Thomas’ faith. You’ll remember Peter how he showed faith and unbelief on the same day. When Jesus said that he will be killed by the leadership in Jerusalem, Peter said, “Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you!” (Matt 16). But it was that same Peter, who when asked who Jesus is, said, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” And Jesus said that Peter was blessed and that his faith was a gift, and that the Church will be built on that solid rock of faith. John, Thomas, and Peter...they were doubters and disciples.

And so there will be times when our faith is the size of a mustard seed. We doubt, we struggle, we question, we wonder. We have unanswered questions to many of life’s riddles. But the good news is: that’s okay. It is normal. As Scripture says, “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common” (1 Cor 10:13). Jesus will be there for us just as he was with John. Even if we feel least in the Kingdom of heaven, Jesus says, we are greater than John. Because just as Jesus lifted up John with his words of praise, so Jesus will lift us up even higher.

We are not saved by the strength of our faith in Jesus. We are saved by the strength of Jesus through faith—the gift of faith by his Word and Spirit. We are not saved by our hands that grasp Jesus but by Jesus’ hands that grasp us. We are loved despite our struggles. We have certain forgiveness despite our questions. And Jesus’ faith in us and what He has done for us will remain strong even though our faith may, at times, be weak. And so we pray, “Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.”

“St. Nicholas"

Isaiah 11:1-6

Matthew 19:13-14

Pastor Tom Johnson, December 6, 2013
Concordia University Chapel

“You better watch out, You better not cry, Better not pout, I'm telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town. He’s making a list, And checking it twice; Gonna find out Who’s naughty and nice. Santa Claus is coming to town. He sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good, So be good for goodness sake! Oh, you better watch out! You better not cry. Better not pout, I’m telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town!”

This song is terrifying. 24 hour surveillance all year round! Perhaps Santa should strap an ankle monitor on all the children of the world! He has declared crying and pouting to be unnatural acts. And so, all tear ducts must stop their watery ways. Santa has divided all children into two: bad or good. He does not want to hear your story of struggle with bad and longing to be good. He has made his judgment. There are no gifts for children who have been naughty, stayed up past their bedtime, been passive aggressive, or shed any tear. And so, as this story goes, our motive for good behavior is the threat of empty stockings. And, if that is true, even the fear of a white bearded home invader will  not change us. Fear of punishment never transforms. The threat of the Law only damns. There is not a shoe out in the hallway that deserves one coin or ounce of chocolate. All our shoes deserve to be empty forever. Merry Christmas!

But thanks be to God that this very recent Santa folklore is nothing less than a defamation of the historic St. Nicolas' character. He was born and lived in what is now modern day southern Turkey far from the arctic circle and over 1,500 years ago in the early fourth century. He did not own or supervise a toy factory. He studied theology—perhaps sent away by his wealthy parents to study the Scriptures in Jerusalem. St. Nick was ordained and later became bishop of Myra—also in modern day southern Turkey. The truth is that Bishop Nicholas’ parishioners loved him. They were struck by his love for all people—especially the little ones, the children. Perhaps it’s difficult for us to imagine living in a culture that treated women and children as property, but that is exactly the kind of treatment that St. Nicholas rejected and abhorred. We know that people in this time of the Roman Empire would leave their newborn infants outside the city walls exposed to die. And it was often the Christians who adopted them as their own.

There is one story about St. Nicholas that might transform the way we look at our socks and shoes during the Christmas season. Like our day, the sex trade and human trafficking in the fourth century was at one of its heights. In the town of Myra where St. Nicholas was bishop, he found out about a group of young girls who were soon to be auctioned to the highest bidding pervert. And so, legend says, St. Nicholas filled three pairs of stockings with coins, threw them into the courtyard where they were locked up, and subsequently purchased their freedom. And that is the root of our hanging stockings jammed with gifts—a reminder that we too have been purchased with a price—not with gold or silver—but by the precious blood of Jesus—not because we have controlled our emotions, stayed in our beds, been on our best behavior, and lived in fear—but because of the one who says, “Let the little children come to me, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.”

And so, St. Nicholas’ loved children. “A little child shall lead them” (Isiah 11:6) Scripture says—even children who are naughty and not always so nice. Little children lead us to a right understanding of the love of God even though they are smaller, weaker, and needier—no, because they are smaller, weaker, and needier. Little children epitomize what it means to be a human being and an object of the grace, mercy, and love of God—the Friend of sinners. What made St. Nicholas jolly was he was a sinner saved by grace too—by Jesus, the greatest lover of the human race especially her little ones. That’s what captured the heart and imagination of Bishop Nicholas and whose childlike and Christ-like love inspired generations. For all I care, the Santa of folklore can stay in isolation at the North Pole! But the true St. Nicholas has me singing and praying that great, Advent prayer, “Amen, come Lord Jesus!”

"No one knows"

Matthew 24:36-44



Pastor Tom Johnson, November 28, 2010

This morning we hear Jesus’ words about “the hour of the coming of the Son of Man.” He compares this event to the days of Noah when the world carried on as if nothing were going to happen. And then the flood came. And God preserved for himself a people and a boatload of creatures to begin anew. Movie makers love these doomsday scenarios. Right now in theatres you can watch a movie about the threat of darkness taking over the whole universe. Or, in another movie, there is the threat of eternal winter. There are plenty of movies with comets and asteroids crashing into the earth, alien invasions, global warming, global freezing, zombie world wars, nuclear holocausts, and viral epidemics. A year ago, the world’s end was predicted to happen according to some interpretations of the Mayan calendar. There is as much talk today about the end of the world as there was in Jesus’ day…perhaps more. Perhaps we have more to worry about and more uncertainty about our future today. There are some very real threats to our planet and our future as the human race.

But Jesus leads us away from this anxiety and fear. He does not want us speculate or worry about the future. He wants us to get busy with the present. He says, “But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.” This saying raises more questions than it answers. How could the day and hour of His return be so top secret that even He does not know when it will be?

Jesus likens His arrival in human history to a thief’s arrival at night. There is no way to know when the thief will come during the night. Likewise, there is no way to know exactly when Jesus will come back in human history. Just as the master of the house must stay awake and alert all night to be ready for the thief, so we must be spiritually awake and ready for the Lord’s return. We are to be ready for Jesus’ return. We don’t know when—but we know who, what, where, why, and how. And that is enough to cast out our fear and anxieties.

We know who—the eternal Son of God, the One who came from heaven to earth out of love for the whole world, the One who died and rose again to conquer death and sin, the One who said He will come back again as our triumphant King.

We know what—He has told us what to do in the meantime—to make disciples of all the nations, to teach, to baptize, to love God with all of our heart, mind, soul, and strength, and to love one another as he has loved us.

We know where—he will appear to humanity everywhere—His glory will be seen in every corner of the globe—his power will be displayed on the face of the whole earth.

We know why—he comes back to bring us final deliverance from death, the devil, this world’s injustice and brokenness, and even our own sin. He will wipe away every tear from our eyes. He will make all things new.

We know how—the angel told the disciples that He will come back just as He ascended into heaven—in the clouds—in great glory—he will reappear as dramatically as he said ages ago when he ascended to the Father.

We know who, what, where, why, and how—we just don’t know when. Jesus encourages us to live our lives in readiness and alertness—to be spiritually awake and prepared for this world to be transformed by his return. We are not truly living our lives as God wants us to if we don’t live our lives in faith that he will return one day. The reality of who Jesus is and what this world will be will intersect one day in time.

At some point in human history, everyone will know that Jesus is Lord of lords and King of kings. There will be a day and an hour when this world will never be the same—there will be an end to the world as we know it—there will be a new beginning to this world that will transform our lives forever. Jesus wants us to live our lives as if his presence will break through into our experience at any moment. He wants us to stop our speculation and begin living in the moment—prepared and ready for great arrival—not that he is absent. He is simply not here as fully as He one day will be.

This season of Advent reminds us that Jesus has come. He speaks to us in His Word. He has made us children of the heavenly Father through baptism. And His Body and Blood are present with us in the bread and wine of Communion. He is with us this morning and one day he will come in even greater glory. And when he does, he will make all things new. This is our comfort. This is the assurance that we have a good and gracious God. He comes for us. He comes to bring us to our eternal home. And so we pray, “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!”

"Jesus, remember me"

Luke 23:33–43

Pastor Tom Johnson, November 24, 2013

We don’t know exactly when he first met Jesus. Maybe he was baptized by John the Baptist. Maybe he was baptized by Jesus or one of his disciples. Or maybe he met Jesus earlier that day when Jesus stood before Pilate. He may have witnessed how Barabbas—a murderer—was set free by the angry mob. He may have witnessed how Jesus was condemned to die—even though Pilate himself believed he had not done anything worthy of death. He was also nailed to a wooden cross—with Jesus and another criminal. And so he heard people mocking Jesus…how they made fun of Jesus’ kingdom—how they put a sign above Jesus’ head which said, “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.”

Despite the agony of the crucifixion, he pushed the pain out of his mind and remembered what Jesus said: “Father, forgive them because they do not know what they are doing.” He remembers his guilt that put him on the cross. Perhaps they are memories of his murdering someone—just as insurrectionists were known for knifing Roman citizens in the public square which was a common crime of terror of the day. He remembers his sin and finds no peace or solace there. He says, “We have been condemned justly. We are receiving the just rewards for our deeds.” He hears the other criminal joining in the mockery of Jesus. “Jesus, if you are the Messiah, get off that cross and save us all!” Perhaps he heard and remembered Jesus’ words earlier to Pilate: “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over …but my kingdom is not from the world” (John 18:36). When he remembers the words and actions of Jesus…when he remembers the nature and reality of the Kingdom of Jesus…when he fills his mind with the truth of who Jesus is, God strengthens his faith. The Holy Spirit gives him faith and courage to pray these bold and powerful words:

“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

 

“Jesus, you remembered those who mocked you. You remembered even those who condemned you and crucified you. You prayed to the Father ‘Forgive them.’ Jesus, remember me—extend that same forgiveness to me. They did not deserve forgiveness. I do not deserve it. But I know you to be a King who forgives the unworthy—who extends his Kingdom of love to sinners. “esus, remember me when you come into your kingdom. I don’t believe that hanging on the cross is the end. I don’t believe that death will have the final word. I believe that you will conquer death just as you conquer sin. I believe that when you hang your head in death next to me on that cross, you will raise your head in triumph as you enter into your heavenly Kingdom. I believe that when your ears close to the mocking crowds on Calvary, your ears will open to the cheering of angels, archangels and all the company of heaven. Your eyes will close to the wagging of heads and be opened to the waving of banners and palm branches.”

When this one criminal remembers—and we remember—we remember who Jesus is, what he has done, and what he will do for us. We remember that Jesus is King and Savior. But when a king remembers, it results in action. When a king remembers he bestows favor, he gives gifts, and he honors. When Jesus enters his kingdom, the criminal hopes that he will remember him—perhaps prepare a place for him…that his story will also not end on the cross. And so he prays, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” This courageous, bold, and faith-filled request is answered by and even more courageous, bold, and radical answer: Jesus says,

 

“Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

“No, my friend hanging on the cross next to me, I will not just remember you when I enter into my Kingdom. I will give you the assurance of forgiveness and eternal life.” You will not fear as you walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Today, today you will be with me in paradise.” It’s remarkable that Jesus is not too busy or preoccupied with his own suffering to remember a broken, sinful, and condemned person next to him on the cross. Jesus’ love and good news here is direct and personal.

We can only conclude that Jesus is not too busy or too preoccupied to hear our prayers. The sin and mess in our lives does not make us invisible or irrelevant. He knows the number of hairs on our heads. He knows the number of our days. He is just as direct and personal with us as he was with that man on the cross next to him ages ago. By referring to heaven as Paradise, Jesus is remembering the whole human story—from Adam and Eve’s eating of the forbidden fruit and being cast out of the Garden until our present day…and beyond. He uses the exact same word used to describe the Garden of Eden in Genesis: “Today, you will be with me in paradise.” He remembers how it all began in innocence, beauty, and perfection. And the King will make sure that is how it ends.

“God of the Living”

Luke 20:27-38



Pastor Tom Johnson, November 10, 2013

A group of religious people come to Jesus to challenge the idea of life after death. They are the Sadducees. They deny that there’ll be a resurrection on the last day. They don’t believe in life after death. If you ever forget, one of my professors said the Sadducees believe you die and that’s it—that’s why they’re sad, you see? And so when they come to Jesus they aren’t really asking a question. They are making a mockery of the resurrection. They tell an absurd story:

A man and a woman get married. They do not have any children. The husband dies. And by Jewish custom, she marries his brother. He dies. And so, she marries another brother and he dies. And so on and so forth until she marries all seven brothers. And then she dies and they all end up together in heaven. Of course, this is all tongue in cheek because the Sadducees don’t believe in eternal life or any such place as heaven. Nevertheless, they ask Jesus, “When they all get to heaven, which of the seven brothers is the true husband?” “Whose wife will she be?” “When she enters through those pearly gates, Jesus, and she looks at the seven men before her, which of the seven men will she lock eyes with and say, ‘Hi honey, I’m home’? Of course, they are just poking fun at the whole idea of heaven. We could take the absurdity of this question in a number of directions. How are we going to settle our differences in heaven, White Sox fans…Cubs fans? Which party will it be in heaven—Republicans or Democrats? Or on a more serious note, how will Israelis and Arabs get along in heaven? How will French and Syrian politicians settle their differences?

When we lived in Dallas, I worked with troubled youth. I mentored two young men who were both high risk for gang activity. We would meet once a week and my primary responsibility was to be a friend to them. One of them was a good basketball player. At halftime of one of his games, I left the auditorium and entered the hallway. On my right was a long line of angry young men all dressed in blue. And on my left was another long line of angry young men all dressed in red. They were wagging their fingers in each other’s faces and mocking each other. And the anger was escalating as I was walking right in the middle of it. It was too late to turn around and I found myself right in the middle of a war zone. The schools set up metal detectors to weed out knives and guns so that the school could be a more safe and a gang free environment. But, as you might have guessed, it did not solve the problem. The violence continued without weapons. And so the schools began to keep students out of the schools who wore gang colors. But students found ways of showing their gang affiliation without colors—through hand signs, the way their shoes were tied, etc., etc. The Sadducees concept of heaven is like high school students passing through the front doors of their school…or like all of us who enter the workplace, our schools, airport terminals, and our homes only to bring all our problems with us.

Of course, the Sadducees have it all wrong. Jesus says we will be like angels in heaven. In other words, the life we live here in these mortal bodies and the life we live in heaven will not be the same. We’ll be transformed. We’ll have a new life and new bodies like angels in heaven. Heaven is not just a continuation of our earthly lives. If it were, the Sadducees would be right—heaven would just be greater chaos and confusion. When we enter into heaven proverbial gates, we won’t just check our guns, gang colors. We will check in everything that causes sin, sorrow, and division. Our hearts and our bodies will be made new and glorified. We will be perfect and sinless in body, heart, and mind. There will be no gang allegiances. There will be no jealously between husbands and wives because we will be transformed.

Jesus takes the Sadducees way back to Moses and the burning bush—a story that the Sadducees would have considered important and authoritative. He reminds them of what God said through that bush: “I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” And then he asks, “Don’t you know that God is called by the name of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob? He is the God not of the dead but of the living.” The name of God and nature of God himself ensures eternal life. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob live on in God’s economy. They may no longer dwell here on earth with us. But they are alive and kicking for joy in the Kingdom of God.

God is not the God of the dead. He is the God of the living. He is not the God of husband and wife conflict; he is the God of peace between sisters and brothers. God is not the God of one rival gang or another like the Bloods and Cripps; he is the God of those who have been purchased and renewed by the Blood and Body of Christ. God is not the God of Latinos, Asians, Blacks or Whites; he is the God of every nation, tribe, tongue, and people. God is not the God of Republicans or Democrats; he is the God of justice and truth. God is not the God of confusion; he is the God of peace. God is not the God who was overcome by death by crucifixion; he is the God who conquered death through the cross. God is not the God who remained lifeless in a tomb; he is the God who on the third day rose victorious over death. God is not the God of those who live with guilt; he is the God of those who live with forgiveness and the promise of eternal life. God is not the God of those who, when they die, remain lifeless in the grave; he is the God of those, who though absent from the body, are present with the Lord. God is not the God of mortals whose future is dark and void; he is the God of those who fill eternity with Christ’s light. God is not the God of the dead; he is the God of the living.

“Sinners and Saints”

Luke 6:20-31



Pastor Tom Johnson, November 3, 2013

 In his book called Do No Harm, Stephen Ray says that “even the best-intentioned sin-talk can participate in needless and, in many cases, malicious harm to marginalized persons and their communities” (p. xi). Calling a person “sinner” or a group of people “sinners” is not a winsome way to share the good news of Jesus. It is not wise. It is not even biblical. Highlighting certain behaviors over others as sin has the same detrimental effect. I may as well go on the record right now to say that I don’t like the words “sin” or “sinner.” The biblical meaning is often lost to a narrower one in English. I think a lot people think of sin as merely a damnable act and sinner as a person who is the object of God’s disapproval, anger, and wrath. It has a much more universal meaning.

 “But,” someone might say, “how can you preach and teach God’s truth without talking about sin?” That is a fair and good question. My answer is: Just as Jesus and the Scriptures do—by talking about the human condition. We find that sin describes not only the things we do, but a more insidious power that can deceive us and hold us captive. And we find that we all share in this struggle against the powers of evil, the world, and even ourselves. In that sense, I preach a lot about sin. But we should be careful to talk about sin and sinners in a universal way. In response to someone who complained that a pastor (Jack Miller) did not use the word “sin” enough, he said, “Cheer up, it’s worse than you think.” “All of us like sheep have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way, but the Lord has caused the iniquity of us all to fall on him” (Isa 53:6). We are all sinners.

 You’ll remember that the Apostle Paul calls himself “The Chief of Sinners” (1 Tim 1:15). St. Patrick introduces himself in his Confession as “Patick, the sinner.” St. Augustine, in his Confessions painstakingly and transparently recounts his struggle with his own captivity to sin. And both Patrick and Augustine do this 1,500 years ago. Even Pope Francis recently called himself a sinner and criticized the church for overemphasizing ‘disjointed’ moral doctrines. It’s why I find Jesus’ words in our Gospel reading so intriguing:

“Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.”

On so many levels, I find Jesus’ warning immensely helpful. First, beware of people that give you empty praise. They may only be speaking well of you because they only know part of the story of who you are. They may be trying to butter you up and then eat you for breakfast. The psalm writer in Psalm 141 (v. 5) says, “Let the righteous strike me; let the faithful correct me. Never let the oil of the wicked anoint my head.” Proverbs 27:5,6 says, “Better is open rebuke than hidden love. Well-meant are the wounds of a friend, but profuse are the kisses of an enemy.” “Woe to you when all speak well of you,” Jesus says, “for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.” Don’t be flattered by a chorus of people who sing your praises, because only phonies are believed to be perfect. Only fakes are so well-spoken of.

 Today we sing of about saints—those believers that preceded us and now are glorified and radiate Christ’s perfection in heaven. But we should remember that even they once tread this earth and got their sandals muddy and dusty. We are both sinners and saints. We are as the reformers put it “both sinners and saints simultaneously” simul iustus et peccator. It just sounds so unarguably true in Latin! It simply means that we are still in the struggle with evil, the world, and ourselves but we also enjoy the assurance of God’s love, acceptance, forgiveness, and adoption.

This is one of the reasons I find the Bible so believable. From Adam and Eve who ate the forbidden fruit we call our first parents, to their son Cain who murdered his brother Abel who nevertheless was promised divine protection…to Noah who drank way too much but faithfully built the ark, to Abraham who lied to cover his own skin but was the Father of a multitude of nations under God…to Isaac who valued one son over another and whose name reminds us of the God who gets the last laugh, to Jacob who was a deceiver and a thief but who prevailed over God in a prayerful wrestling match…to Joseph who was a braggart but became governor of Egypt, and Joseph's 10 brothers who left him for dead but were delivered by the kindness of their reconciled brother, to Moses who was a murderer but led God’s people out of slavery and to the promised land…to Rahab who was a prostitute but preserved the lives of Israelite spies, to David who was an adulterer but upon whose throne would come the Messiah, to Peter who denied Jesus three times but then publicly preached him on Pentecost and brought in 3,000. The heroes of the Bible are not those who overcame weakness, obstacles, and sinfulness by their own strength. They are those who knew God’s unconditional love despite their weakness, obstacles, and sinfulness. They were sinners but God made them saints.

 And so today, we remember these sinners and saints. Better yet, we celebrate God who transforms us from sinners into saints. We give thanks for the lives of those we love but who are no longer with us. There were indeed sinners and saints. But now the perishable has put on the imperishable and the mortal has put on immortality (1 Cor 15:53). As Scripture says, now we see in a mirror dimly but then face to face (1 Cor 13:12). “So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” (2 Cor 5:17). That is our journey: from death to life, from captivity to freedom, from orphans to adoption, from brokenness to wholeness, from sin to holiness, from sinners to saints. They are now shining in glory like the midday sun. They have completed their journey. The rest of us are still in the struggle. But we are assured that in Christ we will safely arrive at our destination. I love the way St. Augustine puts it, “There is no saint without a past, no sinner without a future.”

“Written on our hearts”

Jeremiah 31:31-34



 Pastor Tom Johnson, October 27, 2013

“This is the covenant I will make with [my people], says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. I will write my Law—my prophetic Word—upon their hearts.” That is the profound assurance that God wants us to have with this promise. It goes to the very center of what we remember today on Reformation Sunday.

We remember that God’s people at various times lost their way from this intimate relationship with God. Our Hebrew Scripture from the prophet Jeremiah reminds us that they wandered away almost as soon as God delivered them from slavery in Egypt. Their hearts were overcome by fear of Pharaoh’s army. And who can blame them? The Egyptian army was a formidable adversary with the war technology of a superpower—and Israel was a poorly armed band of freed slaves. They cried out that it would have been better to die in Egypt with a proper burial than to be decimated in the wilderness. They questioned God’s wisdom, his power, and faithfulness. We remember that, in Jesus’ day, religion was more about outward rituals and ceremonial practices than personal faith. People lived under the fear of God’s judgment and anger. The Mosaic Law became a burden that everyone had to bear with its stringent rules and unforgiving narrowness. And we remember, in Martin Luther’s day—that nonconformist German monk—that the Church was selling forgiveness for silver and gold. Luther said he hated God because of all the rules and perfect righteousness that were demanded of him. He lived in fear of punishment both in this life and the life thereafter. And there seemed to be no comfort in the Gospel—what is ironically called the Good News.

We humans seem to want to measure ourselves and one another by our outward appearances and behavior—the color our skin, the habits we have, the words we say, and the lifestyles we live. This is not to say that these things are irrelevant. The Law—God’s Word—calls us to love God with our whole being in thought, word, and deed and to love one another as Christ loved us. God’s calls us to life-transformation—real change in real peoples’ lives. Where we can get confused is the way in which our lives are changed. We can’t stop being afraid of the things that terrify us any more than the Israelites could just wish Pharaoh’s army away. We can’t obey all the demands of the Law all the time—none of us can. We will fail to hit the mark either in deliberate sin or in laziness or apathy. We cannot perfectly fulfill who God calls us to be. And we certainly cannot purchase forgiveness or salvation from God. We do not get brownie points for going to church, praying, or reading our Bibles—although those are very good things to do! Where we get off track is thinking that we can do what it takes to get God’s attention, acceptance, and love. We can’t. It is impossible.

But here is the wonderful news of our Scripture: We don’t need to. God already has our attention, acceptance, and love. And it is free. The truth that was recovered in the Reformation is that God freely delivered the Israelites, the people of Jesus’ day, and a whole generation of people in Martin Luther’s day from the fear of judgment, anger, and punishment for all our sin and fractured lives. And he miraculously does this through his Word. “This is the covenant I will make with [my people], says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people.”

“This is my promise, eternal decree, my planned course of action,” God says in our text, “I will infuse my Word into their very being. I will inscribe it into the very core of their souls. People will know me with a visceral knowledge.” God takes the initiative. He freely takes the first step toward us. He freely gives us forgiveness, life, and salvation. It is good news because it is God’s idea to pursue us through his Son, Jesus Christ. And he does so from the inside out. And to make sure it has staying power, he etches his love into the very tissue of our internal organs.

The word for heart in the Hebrew is really the word for what we would call the guts. It has the same spectrum of meaning as the word “guts” does in English: our gut knows something isn’t right before we know it in our head. A person who is strong and courageous “has guts” or “good, intestinal fortitude.” A person who responds to life’s challenges intuitively and decisively has a “gut reaction.” It is a kind of wisdom that transcends language and cognitive understanding. It is the kind of wisdom that is thoroughly human but since God is the author, it is also divine. Neurologists have found that the mind is not limited to the cranium area or the brain cavity itself. The mind is a neural network that is significant in areas like the gut. Our Scripture reminds us that God knows our frame—he engineered us—our bodies, our minds, our souls.

This Word of encouragement from God today—and the wonderful reminder and blessing of Reformation—is that our heavenly Father inscribes his gracious Word into our hearts. Faith is a gift. Faith is not mere cognition. It is trust. It is something we know in our guts and feel with a visceral knowledge. This relational bond between us and our Father Creator goes to the very core of our being. He is the one who holds the stylus in his hand. He is the Author and Perfecter of our faith. And we have the assurance that we are his beloved children—even to the very core of our being. God creates and strengthens us by that same grace—freely and generously as he continues to write the good story of his love for us into the vital organs of our lives. Words may fail us as we try to explain to others how we know, trust, and love the true and living God. Thanks be to God that the joy we experience also transcends human understanding as we give thanks, share with others, worship, and celebrate God’s free gift of forgiveness, life, and salvation in Jesus Christ—from not only our minds but also our hearts!

"God-breathed Word"

2 Timothy 3:16

Pastor Tom Johnson, October 20, 2013

“All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for corerection, and for training in righteousness, so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work.” “All Scripture is inspired by God”—literally, God-breathed. Our text reminds us that the Word is the exhalation of the very grace of God. The words of the Bible are the lungs of our Creator—the flow of his life-giving provision. Psalm 33 (v. 6) says that “by the word of the Lord the heavens were made, and by the breath of his mouth all their host.” In the Apostle Paul’s great witness on Mars Hill he says God continues to “[give] to all humankind life and breath and everything” (Acts 17:25). In the beginning, when the universe was in chaos and disorder, “the Spirit of God hovered over the surface of the waters” (Gen 1:2). The word for “Spirit” here and throughout the Bible is the word for “breath.” The Hebrew word even sounds like what it means רוּח as does the New Testament Greek word πνευμα. When Adam was made from the dust of the earth, he was not a living being until God breathed the breath of life into his nostrils. From the very beginning, life flowed out of the anthropomorphic lungs of God through the mouth and nostrils of his Word. We need air to live physically. We need the Word to live spiritually.

One of my earliest memories is taking swim lessons and being thrown into the water with dozens of other scared preschoolers. One of the other kids must have thought I was doing quite well in the water. He immediately and conveniently grabbed on to me to keep his head above water. And, in so doing, he plunged me beneath the surface where no air could be found. It may have only been for a few seconds, but time seems to slow down to a halt when you can’t do what your body does every second of the day without thinking—breathe.

Just so, a whole nation—even the whole world—was holding their breath for Apollo 13 when their carbon dioxide filter stopped working. It was only a matter of a few hours before the vacuum of space would choke the life out of them. Each breath the astronauts took in removed precious oxygen from the air. And each breath they breathed out polluted their capsule with carbon dioxide. Like breathing with a plastic bag over their heads, it was only a matter of time. In a moment of desperation and genius, scientists figured out how to repair their air system with the few resources they had to make the air breathable again. Thankfully, one of the things they remembered to bring on the space ship was duct tape.

Physical asphyxiation can be caused by a number of things—by choking, drowning, electric shock, injury, or toxic gases—whatever it is that prevents us from taking in air that is rich with the oxygen we need. Burning fossil fuels does what our bodies do—eat up precious oxygen and spew out carbon dioxide. Trees and plants do just the opposite—they breath in carbon and exhale oygen. But the cycle of carbon and oxygen seem to be imbalanced. In a way our entire planet, by all estimates, is slowly asphyxiating. As stewards of God’s creation, we out to care and act accordingly.

Our Scripture reminds us that our world is asphyxiating spiritually as well. Sin, death, and the devil have a strangle-hold on us. Amos 8:11 says, “The time is surely coming, says the Lord God, when I will send a famine on the land; not a famine of bread, or a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord.” One only need to read the local, national, and international news to be reminded that our world’s spiritual climate has been poisoned by the toxic fumes of pride, greed, violence, selfishness, and death. The weight of the world can sometimes press us down like an elephant stepping on our chests preventing us from being able to draw in the spiritual air that we need. Without that air, we are like those who were outside Noah’s Ark who were engulfed by the flood. We all need to breathe out the toxins that contaminate our blood. We all need to breathe in the oxygen that keep our bodies’ cells alive. God has engineered our bodies to get oxygen through the air we breathe. Without oxygen, our fingers and toes turn blue, we go unconscious, and slowly die. And so it is spiritually. We need to expel the toxins that plague us and breathe in the nutrients that enliven us. God has chosen the means by which he gives us this life—the Word of God.

“All Scripture is God-breathed.” Even Jesus himself who is called the Word—the eternal Son of God—was breathed out into human flesh and born of the virgin Mary. And so God infused the way, the truth, and the life into the world. And though the world, the devil, and our sin tried to choke out and smother the Messiah but crucifying him on the cross, his last breath breathed out forgiveness. And three days later, he rose to breathe peace and eternal life to an asphyxiating creation. That Word is still living and active. He still breathes life into our nostrils through the Holy Scripture. All scripture is inspired by God—God-breathed and useful.

Every time you board an airplane, they show you what to do if the cabin loses its air pressure. A mask will drop down from above. First, they will tell you, secure the mask to yourself. Then look around you. See if there are those near you who need your help. So it is on our pilgrimage here together. God’s Son has come down from above. Secure yourself by breathing in, hearing, discovering, and meditating on his Word. Then look around you. See if there are those near you who need your help to find the breath of life. Fill your lungs with the sweet air of God’s grace. And breathe out thanks and glory to God. As the last line of the last Hebrew Psalm 150 says, “Let everything that breathes praise the Lord!” (Psalm 150:6).

Sermon from Stewardship Sunday, October 6, 2013: Rev. Dr. John Nunes

2 Timothy 1:1-14



October 6, 2013

Rev. Dr. John Nunes

"Guard the good treasure entrusted to you, with the help of the Holy Spirit living in us."
-2 Timothy 1:14

 

“Even the Dogs”

Luke 16:19-31



Pastor Tom Johnson, September 29, 2013

The rich man and Lazarus is a story that illustrates what Jesus says just verses before our text: that you cannot serve both God and money. The rich man is a slave to his riches. Money deadens his senses to how he could serve God. This parable is designed to disrupt us who love money. It is also designed to disrupt prosperity theology: though God does provide for our needs, a lack of material wealth does not mean that the poor lack faith or are God’s rejects.

The rich man has all the outward appearance of prosperity and blessing. He is decked out in the finest apparel. He eats lavishly every day. Meanwhile, outside his gate, lays the poor man, Lazarus. He is not covered with fine linen but with infected sores. His belly is not satisfied with the finest food, but aches and pangs in hunger. No doubt, the rich man passed by this man every day on his way out and back from his business. Perhaps it is because Lazarus was simply the first of a long string of beggars. To stop for each poor and haggard person would make it impossible to reach his destination. He was rich—but not rich enough to sustain a multitude of needy individuals. And so, I suppose, he acted like he didn’t hear, see, or smell Lazarus as he frequently passed him by.

As I describe the rich man’s willful ignorance, I can’t help but remember my own. From the time I arrive at the El green line, transfer to the red line downtown, and then walk a block up to church each day, I must have ignored dozens of people. They are nameless to me. I have not heard their stories. I tell myself that I cannot devote myself to street ministry. I do not have enough money to meet all their needs. “The poor you will always have with you,” Jesus says (Mt 26:11). But maybe, just maybe, I should start to take notice who is laying at my proverbial gate.

I wish I could see the gleam in Jesus’ eye when he tells this story—when the first example of human care and empathy comes from our four legged friends. “Even the dogs,” Jesus says, “…even the dogs would come and lick Lazarus’ sores.” These comfort dogs—yes, these marvelous creatures—are able to serve an entirely different species. They do not become squeamish at the sight of a human with open sores. Instead, they care for his wounds as they would one of their own helpless puppies. I don’t know that Jesus is suggesting that dogs feel the same depth of empathy and concern that we humans should. But there is something about the nature of dogs—or perhaps missing—that enables them to do what we would consider repugnant.

About five years ago, my family and I went to the Indiana Dunes with our Labrador retriever, Ginger. My then 9 year old daughter, 7 year old son, and I decided to climb Mt. Baldy from one of the steep embankments. Our dog Ginger happily joined us. At one point, my oldest tripped. She not only lost her footing but the sand was moving more quickly under her feet than she could make progress up the dune. She cried out for help. Our dog Ginger started to pull on her leash toward my daughter, so I let her go. She ran right to my daughter, then turned around, and then ran back to me. I suppose we were slow learners, because she did that twice before I suggested that my daughter grab ahold of her collar. She did. And Ginger pulled my daughter swiftly up the hill to safety. She did what she was bred to do—retrieve.

When Lazarus dies, there is another species of creature sent to minister to Lazarus—the angels. They, too, are on mission. They cross the boundary of time and space, visible and invisible, mortal and immortal. And they go the same gate where poor Lazarus lay. They carry Lazarus’ resurrected body while leaving the shell of his former self to return to dust.

Meanwhile it is the rich man who makes a startling realization when he dies. He is the one who is now nameless. He is now the beggar sitting at the gate. He has been overlooked both by dogs and angels though not by God. He wants Abraham to send Lazarus back from the dead to warn his brothers about the true nature of things in the universe: No one packs a suitcase into eternity. Riches are not always a sign of God’s blessing but can often deaden our senses to what really matters in the world. The love of money can prevent us from loving God and our neighbor—our neighbor who even sits at our front door.

The rich man wants Lazarus to follow in the paw prints of the dogs, the wings of the angels, and call his brothers to use their riches for the glory of God and to further God’s mission to all humanity. Finally, he gets it. He understands God’s mission to rescue humanity. But Abraham tells him that such a mission has already happened so sending Lazarus from the dead would be a pointless stunt. God sent Moses and the prophets already to bind up our wounds and carry us off to heaven. “They have the Hebrew Scriptures,” Abraham says, “If your brothers would not listen to the likes of Moses and the prophets, neither will they listen to one who rises from the dead.”

And here is the punch line of this satirical story—even sending someone who has risen from the dead will not break someone out of their bondage to riches or wake them up from their complacent love for money. God has already sent Moses, the prophets, the angels, and even the dogs. It is a miracle of God to wake us up to what really matters. It is a gift to use our resources to be a blessing to those around us. And God has even sent his resurrected Son, Jesus Christ, to call us back to a missional use of our time, treasure, and talent.

Each Saturday, the hungry come to the gates of First Saint Paul’s. We answer God’s call to learn names, hear stories, feed the hungry, bind up wounded feet, and watch God raise people up as his beloved children. Who else has God laid at our gates and front doors? Jesus reminds us that God has not left us as orphans—nor ignored us who sit at his gate. He provides for our needs body and soul. He knows us by name. He forgives the harmful things we do and the things we neglect to do. He raises us up. And one day, he will carry us to our eternal home. This is the work of the Gospel. God sent his Son, Jesus to serve us. Jesus sends the angels to minister to us. He sends us to care for one another. And why shouldn’t we—selflessly and joyfully? Even the dogs do that.

“Cunning Stewardship”

Luke 16:1-13



Pastor Tom Johnson, September 22, 2013

Jesus says, “The children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.” Jesus laments the fact that God’s people are less thoughtful in doing good than the world around us in doing bad. To put it another way, Jesus wishes we would put as much mental effort into bringing the light of God’s love into the world as a crooked accountant who steals money from his own clients. Jesus wants us to be just as cunning as a white collar criminal, but instead of for personal gain, for good and for God’s Kingdom. If this doesn’t bother you yet, think about how Jesus calls us to be as shrewd and cunning as a serpent and as innocent and naïve as a dove. What story does a cunning serpent remind us of?

Jesus wants us to be as deliberate, smart, and persuasive as the serpent of old. You’ll remember the Garden of Eden. Adam and Eve were as innocent as doves enjoying the good life without sin, evil, sickness, or death. And then the cunning serpent came and outwitted humanity. The snake shrewdly used Scripture but added his own little twist to the truth. “In the day that you eat of the fruit, you shall not die. You’ll become like God.” Well, they did not die immediately but death entered the world that day. They did became like God knowing good and evil but they did not evolve into higher beings. You’ll also remember the cunning and shrewdness of Cain who persuaded his brother Abel to follow him out into the field. Cain’s little lie deceived Abel and it cost Abel his life. And so it goes in human history—the cunning and shrewdness of people who promote evil, greed, and violence. Do you remember old Pharaoh how he would promise to let the Israelites go from their slavery and then change his mind at the last minute…and how he let them go the last time so that they would be caught between his army and the Red Sea so that he could annihilate them? Jesus called Herod a fox for his cunning to manipulate and deceive the people of God. And dare I mention other more recent world leaders, dictators, kings, Wall Street executives, those who deal in subprime mortgages, tax fraud, top secret government operations, and other examples of cunning and shrewdness?

The financial manager in our text is working for a rich man, squanders his money, and when he is caught, he is fired. But before word can go out that he is a crooked business manager who has lost his job, he shrewdly tries to improve his reputation. He does this because he is too weak to dig a hole in the ground and has too much pride to beg for money. And so, in order to make more people like him in the business community, he reduces the amount of money owed to his former boss by as much as half in one case. And it works. People enjoy owing a lot less. Who wouldn’t like their debts reduced? And now the boss who fired him will look bad if he tries to collect the money that has been forgiven. And even though Jesus calls him dishonest and his behavior wrong, he commends his cunning intelligence.

Wouldn’t it be nice, Jesus says, if believers would show the same amount of wisdom as stewards of the gifts of God? How much more effective we would be if we were just as thoughtful, deliberate, and winsome for the greater good of humanity and the glory of God! My mind goes to back to the lack of shrewdness in the way the Church treated Galileo. Religious leaders were afraid of a brilliant mind who challenged age-old assumptions about the universe. Rather than intelligently engaging Galileo in conversation, the church placed him under house arrest and would not let him write any more. Or more recently, rather than rising up to the challenge to win people to faith who understand our world through science and empirical truth, instead, we often vilify them or simply ignore the conversation altogether. In the last century, we remember that believers in Jesus have also been outwitted by those who used religion to promote evil such as anti-Semitism and institutional racism. Maybe that is why Jesus chooses difficult words. Perhaps he wants to jolt us and awaken us to the tension we live in as believers: while, on the one hand, we are unconditionally accepted and loved by God, on the other hand, he also wants us to act shrewdly and wisely as his Children of Light. We cannot afford to fall behind the world around us as they discuss important matters. We cannot lose sight of the relevance of the Gospel and the Word of God in an ever-changing world.

God has given us precious gifts. He gave his Son to purchase a place for us in Paradise. He outwitted the devil and the powers of darkness by going to the Cross. He was one step ahead of the Roman soldiers when the angels rolled away the stone from the empty tomb. I love the powerful prayer we pray during holy week when we pray that “the serpent who overcame by the tree of the garden might likewise by the tree of the Cross be overcome.”  Is it too much of a thing for him to ask that we be wise and shrewd as stewards of such an empowering message? Should it surprise us that Jesus would want us to intelligently move forward as his Children of Light so that more and more people will come to the knowledge of the truth that there is a God and that God is good, gracious, and loves us with an eternal love? What a privilege it is to be both entrusted and challenged by the wisdom of Christ!

“Rejoice with Me!”

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