"Not to condemn"

John 3:16,17



Pastor Tom Johnson, March 16 2014

“It’s the thought that counts.” Tell that to the wife whose husband did not buy her an anniversary gift. “It’s the thought that counts.” Tell that to the child who never hears an affirming word. Tell that to the groom on his wedding day whose bride will not consummate her vows with a kiss. “It’s the thought that counts.” “For God so loved the world.” It’s another thought. It’s a confession. It’s a belief that God loves the world. Scripture tells us that “God is love” (1 Jn 4:8). God is the definition of what love is. If we want to know love we must know God. We throw around that word “love” so much that we run the risk of forgetting just how radical of a thing love is. God’s love is simple yet profound—too deep for our human minds to grasp.

Nicodemus, an educated man—trained in the Hebrew Scriptures didn’t get it—and he was supposed to be a teacher of Israel. Jesus tries to lay out the simple truth of the Gospel—God’s love for the world. He tries to explain that to understand God, we don’t just need information but transformation. We need to have a flesh and Spirit encounter with God. We must be born again or born from above, Jesus says. We must be renewed in our minds. We must be transformed before we are to be informed. Do you know how they hand you special glasses as you go into see a movie? Baptism is like the 3D glasses we need to be able to see the simple yet multidimensional aspects of the Gospel. “For God so loved the world.” It’s just a thought. It’s just a confession until you experience its power through Baptism. God’s love is just an abstract idea until it transforms our lives through the water and the Spirit.

It’s unclear whether the famous words of John 3:16 come from the lips of Jesus himself or are John’s editorial note for us to understand what Jesus was saying. Regardless, these words are words of simplicity and clarity. John 3:16 have been words of comfort and invitation to the world for centuries. No doubt you have seen people holding up signs at sporting events with “John 3:16” on poster board. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” God’s gift flows out of God’s love. That little word “so” does not mean “so much” but “in this manner.” This Scripture is telling us not just the thought but action of love. God loved the world in this manner—in this way. He loves us concretely and tangibly through the giving of his Son, Jesus Christ. God’s love is known—not by understanding the mind of God—but by receiving of the Gift of God. And whoever receives that gift by faith—whoever believes in him—will experience life-transformation—not just now but for all eternity. This love is radical. It is radically free—free for whoever answers love’s call. It is radically free—we receive the gift of God’s Son and eternal life without gold, silver, good works, or royal or ethnic lineage. It is for whoever—for all the world.

And just to make sure we don’t complicate this free gift, there is a point of clarification—this Scripture tells us what it’s not: “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” This verse in some ways is even more comforting to me than the one we just discussed. God did not send his Son with a threat. He did not send his Son as a wager—believe in him or else! God did not send his Son implicate us. God did not send his Son to ensure our judgment. God sent his Son, Jesus Christ to the world. It is 100% pure good news. It is a proclamation of God’s love. It is a demonstration of God’s love.

But even more than that, it is God’s love in flesh and blood—love that we can experience—love that transforms our very lives forever. This love is not a mere thought. The thought alone does not count. It is not a feeling. God’s love is not hidden deep within his “mind.” God’s love is demonstrated by the gift of the life, death, and resurrection of his Son, Jesus Christ. And that love is experienced by us—not just intellectually grasped. God’s love is the washing with water and cleansing of the Holy Spirit. It is the new birth he gives that make us his royal children. God’s love is the peace you and I have after living our lives weighed down by paralyzing anxiety. God’s love is the forgiveness we have after the living our lives burdened by debilitating guilt. God’s love is the transformation of a proud, self-centered person into a humble servant. God’s love is the unloved and rejected who now has the joy of knowing that we are accepted and loved by the Creator of the Universe.
So God has loved the world. It’s in this manner that God has loved the world. He gave his Son for the world. And now, in him, we have forgiveness, life, and salvation.

“Into the Wilderness”

Matthew 4:1-11



Pastor Tom Johnson, March 9, 2014

Today we have a reminder and an acknowledgement in Scripture that our life’s journey sometimes includes wandering through spiritual wilderness. It might be a sober reality check. Or, in some ways, it may be comforting to know that such times are part of the normal, human experience. Our readings began with Adam and Eve who are residents of the Garden of Eden—Paradise on earth. And yet, their utopia quickly becomes a wilderness of temptation, sin, and death because of their pride, deception, and disobedience. They eat of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. God tells them the consequences of their fall into sin—namely, expulsion from paradise and death. But he also tells them of the hope of the one to come—their promised descendent. Adam and Eve are promised a child who will one day deal a deathblow to the serpent and lead humanity in victory over our all our adversaries.

The story of continues with the Exodus. Israel is delivered from hundreds of years of slavery. They have a foretaste of this crushing blow first promised to Adam and Eve. And the Lord leads them as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night—providing a protective barrier from the Egyptian army behind them and a forging a path ahead through the wilderness to the Promised Land. But they behave exactly in the way the name Israel means—they wrestle with God. They are tempted to turn back to their former lives as slaves. They are hungry, yet complain about the menu God provides. They are thirsty, but put God to the test. Despite their unfaithfulness, God is faithful, and he eventually leads them into the land flowing with milk and honey. God safely leads them though 40 years in the wilderness and they finally enter the Promised Land.

These stories—how we turn God’s paradise into wilderness and how we as God’s people fail to trust him as he leads us out of the wilderness into a better land—these stories are why Jesus must also go into the wilderness. Our Scripture says, “Jesus is led into the wilderness by the Spirit.” He is the New Israel who spends 40 days and nights—a day for every year of Israel’s wandering. Jesus immerses himself into the fullness of what it means to be human. Like Israel in their wilderness wanderings and like us in our difficult times, Jesus is physically brought low. He is emotionally vulnerable. And, he is cleverly tempted by the Tempter and Deceiver. It is like the temptation in the Garden of Eden and Israel’s 40 years of wandering wrapped up into one, concentrated experience. Unlike our first parents, Adam and Eve—and unlike God’s chosen people Israel—and unlike us who give way to temptation and sin, Jesus navigates his way through the labyrinth of deception. And he does so blameless and undefiled. As the Scripture says, “He was tempted in every way that we are, yet without sin” (Heb 4:15).

The good news of this story is that, in Jesus, we have Forerunner to lead the way through our wilderness experiences. He is led by the Spirit. And we are led by him. We may not know why he has led us through this dark territory—but we have the assurance that he is ahead of us and behind us. He is our pillar of cloud by day and our pillar of fire by night. He is the King who graciously leads his people Israel and all nations. And despite our unfaithfulness, he remains faithful. He will lead us to the land of milk and honey, to the great city with streets paved in gold, and to a new creation that will not need sun, moon, or stars to illuminate our world because we have the eternal light of Christ.

Do we find ourselves worried that we cannot survive in the wilderness? Or do we live in fear that our journey will end there in darkness and despair? Jesus’s example says, “Do not fear!” We are his children and he will not leave us as orphans. We are his sheep who can say, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of darkness, I will fear no evil. For Thou are with me. Thy rod and staff; they comfort me.” In this strange story of Jesus’ 40-day trial in the badlands, we have a Leader who is showing us the way. He is the Good Shepherd who shows us how to use Scripture as a defensive weapon to overcome in times of trial. He shows our true hunger is not for food but the Bread of Life—the Word made flesh—the Word of Christ boldly and faithfully proclaimed in times of need. He has our backs and he has cleared a path before us. With the Word of God in our hearts and on our tongues, we journey ahead in confidence and assurance of his love.

Though devils all the world should fill,
All eager to devour us, We tremble not, we fear no ill;
They shall not overpow’r us.
This world’s prince may still
Scowl fierce as he will,
He can harm us none. He’s judged; the deed is done;
One little word can fell him.                                                ("A Mighty Fortress Is Our God," LSB 656 v. 3)

“Farewell to Hallelujah”

Matthew 17:1-9

Pastor Tom Johnson, Mar 2, 2014

Today we have sung and spoken our last “Hallelujah.” It’s not entirely clear even to Hebrew scholars how this word developed. It’s an unusual word. It appears to be a combination of two words: hālal “to praise” and a shortened form of the tetragrammaton YHWH. And so we believe it means “Praise the Lord.” Hallelujah rang in the ears so clearly in Hebrew that the Greeks simply adopted it as their own. They didn’t even botheri to translate it but used this Hebrew word in their Greek worship.

Roman Christians also adopted this word into their Latin scriptures and worship. Hallelujah with an h is a good, Germanic transliteration. Alleluia with no h is the Latin form it takes. That is why we have the two forms of the word. Hallelujah is the song of angels in heaven, who day and night without ceasing shield their eyes to the light of the glory of Christ and eternally praise our resurrected Lord. “Hallelujah,” they cry. They call heaven and earth to join them in worship.

This morning we’re saying “farewell” to both forms of the word. If we are consistent, we should also say farewell to the phrase “Praise the Lord.” Why do we do this? Why send our Alleluias on a lententide sabbatical or vacation? Why lay Alleluia to rest for a while? We say goodbye to Alleluia as a kind of liturgical “see you later.” It’s a traditional discipline that helps highlight Resurrection Sunday. We lay our hallelujah to rest with full confidence and anticipation that our hallelujah will come out of its liturgical grave with renewed vigor and power.

When Jesus takes Peter, James, and John to the high mountain, he is, in a sense, giving one, last, big shout of “Hallelujah!” He reveals his true light and glory to them. They have a peek into his future resurrection. They have a foretaste of the Marriage Supper of the Lamb to come. But then Jesus leads them down the mountain. They curtain falls. The glory and light of Christ is veiled again. Jesus sets his face to Jerusalem. And it is there that he will be arrested, tried, and beaten. Instead of shouts of hallelujah, the crowds will cry, “Crucify him!”

By our fasting from our alleluias, we recognize the fact that our sin, this broken world, the devil, and death all remain obstacles to the praise our Lord deserves. The reality is that we say farewell to alleluia every time we sin. Our thoughts, words, and deeds are keep us from living lives of praise. Every time we pray the Lord’s Prayer we acknowledge this. We pray “Hallowed be thy name.” We pray for our lips to open in praise to the Lord. We pray that our sinful farewell to alleluia would come to an end. We pray that a renewed hallowing of his name and praising the Lord would be reborn in our hearts and mouths.

For Peter, James, and John, their hallelujahs will be reborn when they see Jesus raised from the dead. The guilt, sadness, and despair will dissolve away. And gratitude, joy, and praise will well up in their hearts and mouths.  And so it is for us. We know that our unhappiness is only temporary. Weeping may tarry for the night but joy comes in the morning. There is an end in sight. We know that Easter is coming on April 20^th.  It is a healthy discipline to take a break from this familiar but strange word. Hopefully, we can discover a deeper meaning. Perhaps we will have a renewed appreciation for the privilege we have in celebrating the glory of Christ our Lord.

Maybe we will fulfill God the Father’s command “Listen to him!” It is helpful to stop our mouths if we want to hear better. We are more attentive to the words and teachings of Jesus when we explore the darker side of his suffering and death. Like Peter, we would all like to bask in the light of Jesus’ glory in the company of Moses and Elijah. We don’t want to come down from the high mountain. It’s our nature to not want a beautiful and pleasurable experience to end.

But that is what is so encouraging about Transfiguration. It is not the end but a foretaste of the resurrection to come. “Tell no one about the vision,” Jesus says, “until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” Jesus asks the three disciples not to speak about his glory on the mountaintop until after they see him in his resurrected body. This is a kind of farewell to hallelujah. Jesus asks them to have a little self-discipline now so that their joyful proclamation will be all the more timely and powerful later.

Food tastes much better when we are truly weakened by hunger. There is much more pleasure in a cup of plain water when we are genuinely dehydrated. So our shouts of hallelujah will be that much more sweet and rigorous on Easter Sunday. And, so, alleluia, we bid “adieu” and “fare thee well.” We will miss you. But we know we will see you again. Like a faithful, old friend we know that you will return. We sow you into the ground but we know you will spring up again. We now commit our alleluias to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through Jesus Christ, our Lord, who will change our cries of repentance into shouts of praise to the Lord, by the power that enables him to subdue all things to himself.