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Sermons, articles, and occasional thoughts from Pastor Tom Johnson


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Sunday, January 27, 2013

“The joy of the Lord is your strength,” (Nehemiah 8:10)

Nehemiah 8:1–3,5–6,8–10



Pastor Tom Johnson, January 27, 2013

It had been generations since the Bible had been taught. So much time had passed since the Bible stories were told that the Hebrew language became too archaic to understand. And so, Ezra translated what he read from Hebrew into Aramaic. Reading the Scripture in its original Hebrew for them would be like our reading medieval English which is often difficult to understand. It is interesting that even thousands of years ago, the important thing was not the exact wording of the Bible but its “sense.” This is what Ezra conveyed—the Bible’s sense—it’s meaning.

The Law is what we call “the Old Testament”—but most especially the first five books of the Bible—called the Pentateuch or Torah. The people would have heard the account of Creation, Adam and Eve’s fall into sin, Noah’s ark, the Tower of Babel, the calling of Abraham, the story of Joseph being sold into slavery to deliver the whole world from starvation. They would have heard the account of how the Hebrews became slaves—and of Moses who went to Egypt to tell Pharoah, “Let my people go.” Ezra would explain the passover meal, the blood on the doorposts to avert the Angel of Death, and how God parted the Red Sea so they could walk to freedom on dry ground.

Maybe it’s when they hear how the Hebrews grumbled, complained, and rebeled against God—and how God, time and time again has to discipline them back—that the people become sad, grieved, and begin to weep and cry. Perhaps they identified with how easily we all forget and stray away from God like lost sheep. We have some things in common with the slaves in Egypt who lost hope and memory of their God and the generation who wandered for 40 years in the desert because of their lack of trust in the One who led them safely toward the Promised Land. They would have heard the Ten Commandments and all the moral, ceremonial, and civil laws they had ignored and violated. The Law is uncompromising, precise, and no one can walk away feeling like they are righteous. And really, that is the point of such stories—that as we hear about hard hearts, stiff necks, and grumbling mouths—that we realize that we too have sinned by what we have done and by what we have left undone, in our thoughts, words, and deeds.

It is unsettling to realize our sinfulness. We clearly see our own broken condition when it is so vividly illustrated in the stories of the Bible. And so the Israelites bowed their heads to the ground, tears welled up in their eyes, and they cried out in despair and hopelessness. No one can escape the Law’s accusing tone. None is righteous in its sight. The Law requires that we love God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength...and that we love our neighbor as ourselves. We discover the truth that we don’t love God or each other enough. And for that we need forgiveness.

Ezra, being the great preacher and pastor that he is, realizes they need some Gospel to go along with the Law. Ezra understands that the Law breaks us down but the Gospel builds us up—the Law is a schoolmaster who bring us into a full understanding of the good news. “This day is holy to the Lord your God,” Ezra proclaims. “Do not mourn or weep. Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to the hungry.” This is no mere suggestion to sad people that they go get a drink. He invites them to participate in the story they just heard—to eat meat and drink a meal in anticipation of being delivered from slavery, as in the Passover story—to break bread and drink wine like Abraham and Sarah did with the Angel of the Lord when he promised them a son. “Eat a meal, raise a glass,” Ezra says, “and feed the hungry.” Sounds a lot like what we as a congregation do on Sunday—have a meal, the Lord’s Supper—and Saturday—providing a hot meal, sending portions to those for whom nothing is prepared.”

“For the joy of the Lord is your strength,” Ezra proclaims.

Joy—that spiritual reality—more than contentment—deeper than happiness. Joy transcends life’s circumstances. Joy is walking by faith, not by sight. Joy is the result of God making us his people—it is the response of those who put their trust in the Lord. Joy comes from the finished work of Jesus on the cross for the forgiveness of our sins. Joy is the empty tomb and our triumph over death. Joy is gratitude for what God has done. Joy is optimism of what he will do. “The joy of the Lord is our strength.” Joy puts peace into our anxious hearts. Joy helps us rest at night knowing that our future is secure in his hands. Joy gets us out of bed in the morning because “this is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Joy has us looking back in thanksgiving for God’s help along the journey. Joy has us looking forward, knowing that the God who is with us now, will be with us tomorrow, and will bring us safely to our promised land. “Rejoice, and again I say, rejoice!” Scripture says. “Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning!” Stop beating yourself up for neglecting God and his Word. Lament no longer for your sinful attitude and behavior. “Take eat...drink of it, all of  you...” Have a joyful meal. God gives to the humble and the hungry. Your sins are forgiven. An eternally bright future is before you. “The joy of the Lord is your strength.”

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

“Jesus the Winemaker” (John 2:1-11

John 2:1-11

Pastor Tom Johnson, January 20, 2013

It was the third day of wedding festivities—three days of celebrating the union of two people. “For this reason,” Scripture says, “a person leaves their father and mother and are united as one.” Jesus would later say, “What God has brought together, let no one separate.”

Jesus, his mother Mary, and his disciples were all invited to this wedding that lasted—not hours—but days. And in certain parts of the world, they still set aside days to celebrate what God brings together. The unthinkable happens—their adult beverage runs dry. The fruit of the vine dies. On the third day, they run out of wine. Even in those days, weddings and wine had an inseparable union. How else can you explain the urgency of the situation? Mary tells Jesus. And Jesus asks what she thinks he can do about it. “Now is not the time to take the cup,” he says. “It is not yet time to pour out my life for the sin of the world.” Mary seems to ignore Jesus’ eccentric reply. She turns to the caterers and tells them, “Just do what my son tells you to do.” And Jesus points to six huge jugs—each one requiring at least two strong men to carry them from here to there. And Jesus tells the caterers to take all six of them and fill them completely with water. This is a pretty labor intensive project. 20-30 gallons of water is heavy. A gallon of water weighs over 8 lbs. Each container would weigh about 160 lbs PLUS the weight of the stone jar itself.

Winemakers normally can only handle about five or six gallons of juice at a time which is still about 40-60 lbs of juice and heavy enough. And this would be after stomping or pressing the juice out of grapes, which is a lot of work already. But to make good wine, it requires patience. No matter how much urgency Mary and the rest of the wedding guests felt—no matter how much they thirsted for their first century hooch—you cannot speed up the winemaking process. Grape juice needs to be inoculated with microbes called yeast. They infect the grape juice and consume most of the sugars. They produce two byproducts: carbon dioxide and alcohol—transforming sugary juice into intoxicating wine. This is called fermentation. And the average time it takes for these microscopic winemakers to do their magic is three weeks. There is another powerful, invisible force that starts to work on the wine: gravity. Gravity pulls all the extra particles and waste to the bottom of the vessel creating a noxious layer of sediment also called the dregs. You’ve heard the phrase, “Drinking the dregs” or referring to people as the “dregs of society.” It is pretty nasty stuff. At the end of three months, a year, or even longer, the wine maker carefully pours the wine off the dregs into a clean vessel. The more time one allows, the more aged and refined it will be. Patience is a virtue; it also pays high dividends to the palette.

Jesus pulls a fast one on the wedding coordinator. He sends these huge jars of water to him. These are ridiculously huge vessels for ritual bathing. Sometime, somehow, during the whole process, Jesus skips the grape squeezing, fermentation process, and aging and delivers some of the finest wine ever to come to market. The “chief steward” whose job was to oversee and manage the wedding party, its food, and its beverage does not know what happened. He is clueless that they ran out of wine in the first place. He is even more confused by the quality of the wine. “Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk.” Did you catch that? He betrays his plan of deception. He was expecting drunkenness and hoping it would mask the poor quality of the wine he would later serve. And isn’t this like the deceitfulness of sin, our broken world, and the evil one…to hook us with the good stuff first to later unload their worthless wares later…to trick us into thinking that we are receiving the best the world has to offer?

This wine blessed by the Word of Jesus is the first of his miracles during his earthly ministry. And wine blessed by the Word of Jesus will be the last. He takes up the cup and says, “This cup is the new testament in my blood which is shed for you for the forgiveness of your sins.” He prays that cup will pass but embraces his Father’s will. He pours out his blood on the cross to release us from the power, deception, and condemnation of our sin. And on the third day, the tomb, which was like a wine cellar whose wine had run dry, bursts open with new, life-enriching wine.

Like the water into wine, our Groom makes us his Bride by the water and his commanding Word. He prepares the marriage supper of the Lamb, which has no end. He is the Lord of hosts in Isaiah 25 who “will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines well refined.” In the meantime, he does not deaden our senses so that we can’t detect the lack of quality. Instead, he fills us with the Spirit and his own Body and Blood so that we taste and see that the Lord is good. He warms our hearts in friendship, family, and love. God brings us into a union with his Son that no one can separate and a marriage feast in his Kingdom which will have no end.

Monday, January 14, 2013

“The Voice of the Lord is upon the Waters” (Psalm 29)

Psalm 29


Pastor Tom Johnson, January 13, 2013

King David must have been reflecting on the many Scriptures where God speaks over and through water. “The voice of the Lord is upon the waters,” he says, “the God of glory thunders; the Lord is upon the mighty waters. The voice of the Lord is a powerful voice; the voice of the Lord is a voice of splendor.”

You’ll remember that Scripture begins with the voice of the Lord upon the water. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. And God said, ‘Let there be light.’” The voice hovered over the water. And by the water and the spoken word, God created the heavens and the earth.

The voice of the Lord’s displeasure was upon the water that flooded this world The voice of the his hope was upon the water that saved Noah and his family. The voice of God’s mercy was upon the misty water and rainbow that promised never to send a flood again. The voice the Lord’s justice was upon the water of the Red Sea that drowned Pharaoh’s army thirsty to shed innocent blood. The voice of deliverance was upon the water that parted to make a way for God’s people on dry ground. The voice of the Lord’s promise was upon the water of the River Jordan as it heaped up to welcome the Hebrews to the land flowing with milk and honey. Can any of us fault God for choosing to speak to us upon the waters? It seems to be a pattern David recognizes in redemptive history—that God likes to use water to deliver his message.

Geologists tell us that water does the best job in carving out the rock to reveal the ancient stories of the earth. The Grand Canyon with its deep caverns and layers of earth and rock is a manuscript of ages long forgotten. We can only hear the voice of this rich history because of the water. Just so, God has let water carve a path through the Scriptures so that we can better hear his voice and experience his power.

David was remembering and celebrating God’s activity through water in the past. But he was also foreshadowing and predicting God’s activity in the future. “The voice of the Lord is upon the waters,” he observes. The voice of the Lord’s prophet will be upon the River Jordan preparing a way for the Messiah. The voice cries out upon the water, “Behold the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world!” The voice in the wilderness is knee deep in the water of the Jordan when he preaches a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. People come from all directions to come to the water and hear a word of forgiveness for them. The voice of the Lord himself speaks over the water pouring over Jesus’ head. The heavens open and the voice thunders, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” The voice of the Lord speaks from the mouth of Peter and over the water when three thousand are baptized on Pentecost. They receive forgiveness and adoption. Through the water and the Word God washes away their sin and claims them as his own daughters and sons. In Revelation, the voice of the Lord comes to John as the sound of rushing water. John writes, “Then I turned to see the voice that was speaking to me…and his voice was like the roar of many waters” (Rev 1:12,15). Also in Revelation, the voice of the Lord’s heavenly choir reverberates over the water. John says, “Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder” (Rev 14:2; 19:6).

The pages of my hymnal have been permanently and wonderfully warped by the water of Baptism over the last six years. The service of Holy Baptism have the ripples of water in them. But those ripples have found their way to the service of Confirmation, Holy Matrimony, and have begun to work on the pages of the Funeral Service. It is a wonderful reminder of the indelible mark that the Water and the Word have made in our lives as Christians. The water is working its way through the pages of my hymnal just like water has made its path through Holy Scripture. And so the voice of the Lord still speaks through the water. The voice of the Lord upon the water of our Baptism proclaims that we have been washed clean and have been forgiven of all our sins. The voice of the Lord upon our baptismal water adopts us as his beloved children.


Monday, January 7, 2013

“Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh”

Matthew 2:1-12


Pastor Tom Johnson, January 6, 2013

Gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Three royal gifts. And not just royal gifts—but prophetic gifts—gifts provide a prophetic vision of who this baby Jesus is.

Gold. Au 79 on the periodic table. Gold is a malleable metal with a shiny luster. It is perfect for making jewelry and adorning furniture and buildings. It is not like most metals that corrode, rust, and need constant attention to shine. It never loses its luster. Gold has never been mined in Palestine—the Israelites had to import this metal over great distances. It was a rare and costly commodity. The Magi—these wise men—were offering the baby Jesus and his family a kingly gift. Unlike you and I, the average Israelite would not own any gold—it was a royal privilege. And I wonder…in what form did these wise men deliver the gold? Was it in a wooden chest filled with gold coins—with the faces of foreign kings—Persian kings, Ethopian kings, Arabian kings, Rome’s Caesar—these little golden faces bowing down to an infant Child foreshadowing the Christ’s dominion as King of kings? Or was Jesus given a golden crown as He deserved as King—instead of the thorny crown that will make mockery of Him later?

Frankincense. The gum and sap of a tree from the Boswellia family of trees. Frankincense was used to embalm the bodies of kings and the wealthy. When burned, it was also used to fumigate large rooms and areas of foul smells. When burned, it produced a sweet smelling aroma—the Scriptures describe Frankincense as “a sweet spice” and “a pleasing aroma to the Lord” (Exod. 30:34; Lev. 2:2). It was used by the priests of the Temple in Jerusalem along with animal sacrifices. These frankincense-producing trees only grew in Southern Arabia and India. This was also a rare and costly commodity. The only people that could afford to have Frankincense were the priests of the Temple in Jerusalem and the morticians of wealthy families. And I wonder…the priests were instructed by God to burn animal sacrifices which smelled horrible—these burnt offerings were the repugnant smell of our sin. And masking that smell was the pleasing aroma and sweet spice of Frankincense. Did this gift foreshadow the life of Christ—lived under the Law—perfectly obedient to God in thought, word, and deed? Is this a picture of the righteousness and justice of Jesus that masks and clothes us—we who only produce the repugnant smell of sin?

Myrrh. The exudate and sap of the Commiphora Myrra tree. Myrrh is a pleasant smelling substance used as a perfume as well as to embalm the bodies of kings and the wealthy. Myrrh was used between the lovers of the Song of Solomon. But its most common use was to mask the smell of a decomposing body—to withhold the repugnant smell of death. The Commiphora Myrra tree did not grow in Palestine. These trees only grow in modern day Yemen, Somalia, and East Ethopia. This was also a rare and costly commodity. The only people that could afford to have Myrrh were the wealthy and the morticians—the embalmers—of privileged families. And I wonder…old Nicodemus brought 75 lbs of Myrrh mixed with Aloe to anoint the body of Jesus—a kingly burial in a newly hewn tomb right next to the place He was crucified. Did this gift foreshadow the death of Jesus—and the death of death? Did its sweet smell in the nostrils of Mary and Joseph speak of the sweet death of their Son who would be crucified for our sins—who would conquer death—and give us the victory over our graves—a sweet perfume and pleasant smell of His death and life that masks our mortality?

Gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Three royal, priestly, costly, and rare gifts—gifts that had to be imported into the land of Israel. These foreigners brought their best from a long distance to worship an infant Child—He who is the royal, priestly, costly, and rare Gift—a Gift that had to be imported from the right hand of the Father from heaven—a Gift that could not be found anywhere on earth or among the daughters and sons of Adam and Eve—a Gift that delivers us a royal adoption—streets paved in gold—an eternal, heavenly home that will never lose its luster—a Gift that delivers us a covering for our sin—clothed in the righteousness of Jesus Christ that fumigates the stench of our sin—a Gift that delivers us from the decay of death—that holds back the penalty and consequence of sin—which presses us down in the grave—the sweet smell and aroma of His death and resurrection—that gives us the victory over the grave—the Gift of the Christ Child—eternal Son of God born King—the Gift that will keep on giving, in this life—even to all eternity.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

“The Radiance of God’s Glory"

Hebrews 1:1-4


Pastor Tom Johnson, December 25, 2012

Have you ever been deep into a cave without light? I’ve taken short tours through the caves—but one time took an extended tour into the depths of the earth. The extended tour had no electric lights or electricity—it was a lantern tour. As you enter the passageway into this section of the cave, you can see nothing but black nothingness. The only source of light you are given is a oil lantern—the tour guide lit each of ours as we passed him by with his lighter. I was pretty sure that a little candle-light sized flame would not be enough light for us to see anything. But I was wrong. As our eyes adjusted, the little oil flames of light illuminated the darkness. We could see rock formations, navigate narrow passageways, and find our footing easily with just a flicker of light. I never would have guessed that such a little light could deliver so much. Perhaps it is because I had never been in such darkness.

As you might suspect, at one point in the tour, the tour guide asked us to all blow out our lanterns. One person asked if the tour guide remembered to bring his lighter. Only after he physically showed us two lighters did we all blow them out. He then instructed us to wait patiently for the smoldering wicks to completely die out. It was amazing how much of a bright, orange glow those smoldering wicks put out. Finally, he told us to make sure all our electronic devices were off. We were in complete darkness. We were deep within the heart of the mountain. The tour guide asked us to pass our hands in front of our faces…nothing. Nothing in our peripheral vision. Nothing around the corner trying to peak in—like the previous tour. Nothing but darkness, blackness, and nothingness. The tour guide said that if we spent just a number of hours in this complete darkness, our brains would become confused. There would be no signals between the retina and the brain. Blindness would set in. And, then madness.

And is this not an apt description of the world we live in…the darkness and lack of light on a global scale? We often live our lives unable to see the hand of God at work in our lives and in the world around us. Madness has set in: wars, terrorist attacks, murder, abuse of family, abuse of power, greed, hopelessness, depression, and profound anxiety—a worldwide pandemic of the darkness of the human condition—deep within the human soul.

Our reading from Hebrews remind us of the precious and life-giving truth of the Christ Child: “He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power.” He is the radiance of God’s glory. To gaze upon that Child underneath the Christmas star, is to gaze upon the Star of David, the Morning and Evening Star, the Sun and Dawn of a new morning, the radiance of the glory of God. To look to Jesus is to look to God. To bask in the light of Jesus is to bask in the Light of Glory. And he does not just reflect and radiate the light of almighty God—he is—he is God. He is the exact imprint of God’s nature. When Jesus’ fingerprint is found in our lives, it is because the finger of God has touched us. That is why on Christmas Day we sing the song of Isaiah, “For unto us a child is born” (Isa 9:2). “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shined.”

After lingering for about 15 minutes in absolute darkness in that cave, we were all pretty eager to light our lanterns again. The tour guide was desperately wanting to drive us to madness with his ridiculous ghost story. Finally, he flicked on his lighter. It was like an explosion and sunburst of light. As he passed the lighter from lantern to lantern the illumined cave brought us back to the security and comfort of being able to navigate our world. A little Christ Child born in a manger—brightening the lives of a world struggling through deep darkness. He lights our lanterns through the water and fire of Baptism. He brings us the light of forgiveness through his own luminous Body and Blood in the bread and the wine. We are his little lanterns illuminating the dark caverns of this world. And not to belittle the great gifts that we enjoy now, the full revelation and unveiling of the bright Son of Glory is to come!

When we left that cave, we walked into the light of the Colorado summer sun—a blinding light. It made our candles a mere foretaste of the light to come. And so it will be when Christ’s light safely navigates us to our heavenly home. Revelation describes this as a place that “has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb” (Rev 21:23). Outside of this Christ Child, there is no true light, no true comfort of forgiveness of sins, no assurance or certainty of eternal light. He is the Light of the World.