“If Christ has not been raised,” 1 Cor. 15:13-26

1 Cor. 15:13-26


Pastor Tom Johnson, March 27, 2016

Our second Scripture reading invites us to imagine a world—a world where there is no resurrection of the dead—as if Christ has not been raised—as if life after death is the myth that some say it is. What would lives be like if he is, indeed, not risen? “If Christ has not been raised from the dead then our preaching is in vain.” All those Sunday mornings when you could have slept in—all those sermons you’ve listened to—it was all in vain. It was a waste of time. If Christ has not been raised, Paul says, “We are misrepresenting God.”

All those people you know, pastors, DCEs, teachers, parents, or grandparents who told you about Jesus, they are all liars. They are propagators of a fantasy world. Whether they know it or not, they are purveyors of falsehood. They are tellers of idle tales. If Christ has not been raised, Paul says, “your faith is futile”—your faith in a Creator is a delusion. You were not loved before the foundation of the world. You are not fearfully and wonderfully made. God did not knit you together in your mother’s womb. No one knows the number of hairs on your head. If Christ has not been raised, “You are still in your sins”—you and I are still broken, unhappy, and hazardous human beings. “Amazing myth, how bitter the sound, that deludes a wretch like me. I once was lost, am still not found; was blind and never shall see.” If Christ has not been raised, Paul says, “We are above all people most to be pitied.” We are the most sorry lot of humanity on the planet. If Christ has not been raised, then Karl Marx is right: religion is the opiate of the masses; our faith is the heroin epidemic we abuse to self-medicate our hopeless lives. If Christ has not been raised, the world should be reaching out to us in compassion. There should be mercy ministries to Christians to rescue us from mass-generational delusion. If Christ has not been raised, we are indeed a pathetic people.

If Christ has not been raised, Paul says, “Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished.” There is no one to lead us through the valley of the shadow of death. Death is eternal lights out. Death is permanent silence. No angels. No streets paved in gold. No tree of life. No Savior. Nothing. If Christ has not been
raised, death is ultimate reality. Death is the end of all things. Science tells us that even the Sun will run out of energy and die. The galaxies will one day collapse on each other or collide. The universe will one day implode. If Christ has not been raised, we should certainly eat, drink, and be merry now, for tomorrow we die.

I’m so glad that our Scripture only wants us to entertain this imaginary world for so long. I am so happy that we can leave the ifs behind. This is Resurrection Sunday. There is no if. Christ is risen indeed. “But in fact,” our text says, “Christ has been raised from the dead.” Death has entered into the world. But so has the resurrection! We all know death is part of the human experience. But, as Christians, we believe eternal life to be the outcome of our hope in the resurrected Christ.

Since Christ is risen, we have an anchor in life. We have the assurance of grace to calm our anxious lives. Since Christ is risen, we know that we have overcome death. “He is not here,” the angel says, “but has risen.” Actually, when I think about this Scripture, “If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people to be pitied,” I feel badly for those who do not have this hope. In fact, I know God looks at all of us with compassion. He wants the whole world to have the same joy we Christians have this Sunday morning. He wants us all to know that hope prevails over despair, good over evil, and life over death. We can live our lives with true and holy optimism.

Because Christ has been raised, faithful preaching will powerfully proclaim and deliver eternal life. Because Christ has been raised, we have the privilege of passing on this treasure from generation to generation. Because Christ has been raised, “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, [and] the conviction of things not seen” (Heb 11:1). Because Christ has been raised, we are not temporary occupants of a dying planet but citizens of a heavenly kingdom. Because Christ has been raised, we are not in our sins but have received the full pardon and forgiveness of our sins. Because Christ has been raised, all those who fall asleep in Christ “have not perished but have eternal life” (Jn 3:16). Because Christ has been raised, “even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” Because Christ has been raised, “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever” (Ps 23). Because Christ has been raised,

I know that my Redeemer lives;
What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, He lives, who once was dead;
He lives, my everliving head.

He lives and grants me daily breath;
He lives, and I shall conquer death;
He lives my mansion to prepare;
He lives to bring me safely there.

Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia!

“Joseph of Arimathea,” Luke 23:50-56

Luke 23:50-56


Pastor Tom Johnson, March 20, 2016

Joseph is from the town of Arimathea. He is a religious leader and a member of the council. He is wealthy. He has a powerful influence in the community. He was there when the council conspired to arrest Jesus. He saw the 30 pieces of silver given to Judas to betray Jesus. He heard the chief priest say that it is necessary for one man to die for the nation. He was witness to the misuse and abuse of power by these leaders. Joseph tried to speak up. He and his colleague Nicodemus said that it was not a good idea to target this Jesus of Nazareth. It was a better idea to let God sort out the confusion through time and patience. A lie cannot live forever, they said. But once the wheels of justice—or wheels of injustice—begin toward the arrest, mock trial, flogging, crucifixion, and death of Jesus, there is nothing Joseph of Arimathea can do. He must come to grips with this tragic miscarriage of justice.

Joseph is good and righteous. He follows the path of non-violent resistance. He obeys God rather than the corrupt power of humankind. He courageously confronts Pontius Pilate under whom Jesus has greatly suffered. Joseph gets Jesus’ Body off the cross. He removes his Body from the spectacle that was meant to shame and humiliate him—to mock and despise Jesus as King. He ends the message to the world that this is what happens to people who confront the power of Rome and the religious authorities.

Even Jesus’ disciples, acquaintances, and own family stand off at a distance. Judas regrets his betrayal and despises himself. Peter is afraid to associate himself with a Jesus. The few who are there are overcome by shock and disbelief. The crowds are there for the spectacle. This is entertainment for them. People are morbidly drawn to the grotesqueness and perversion of the cross. They cried out, “Crucify, crucify him!” And there thirst for blood is quenched. This morning we are at an advantage to all participate in the Gospel reading. We participated in the words of the crowds, the council, Pontius Pilate, Judas, and the soldiers. We all got to experience the truth of the crucifixion—all humanity is guilty. We all crucified our Lord by our fallen human condition. Our sin put Christ on the cross. Even Joseph of Arimathea—as good and righteous as he is—fails to protect and preserve innocent life. He may not be totally aware of it now, but it is all our failure to love God and our neighbor in thought, word, and deed.

“Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing!” Jesus’ word of forgiveness not only reminds us of the radical mercy and grace of God. It also aptly describes the mayhem—no one knows what they are doing. We do not know we are crucifying the Lord of glory! We do not know that his death is a death-blow to death itself. We do not know that this was God’s plan all along—to overcome sin, death, and evil through the Cross of Calvary. And then there is Joseph of Arimathea—a man of God.

Joseph is not perfect or without sin. But he is the one who leads the way through the Cross and grave. He is described as “waiting expectantly for the Kingdom of God.” Even though he does not fully know what he is doing, he moves forward by faith and not by sight. He participates in the death and burial of Jesus with his own hands and resources. He does so at great personal cost and personal risk. He embraces Christ’s suffering and death as he embraces his body to remove the nails and lower him reverently to the ground. He covers his Body with a pall. He wraps him in clean linen to show that he is untainted by sin and corruption. Joseph puts Jesus’ Body in a tomb that is freshly carved out of solid rock. No other bodies have been buried there. It is probably carved out for Joseph himself. Joseph makes Jesus burial his own. Jesus is buried in the place and in the stead of Joseph. Joseph carries Jesus’ Body to the tomb and lays him there like a seed planted in the earth which will grow into the Tree of Life. He serves Jesus sacred Body as he has always served—in eager expectation of the Kingdom of God. Joseph is a priest who foreshadows the High Priest Jesus. He leads the way to Jesus death and burial.

Like him, we participate in the death and burial of Jesus. “We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life” (Rom 6:4). “If we have been united in a death like his, we will certainly also be united with him in a resurrection like his” (Rom 6:5). Jesus dies and is buried in our place and in our stead. This is what happens when we put our faith and trust in Jesus. Like Joseph takes Jesus into his arms, we take his Body into our hands and mouths. We put his Blood to our lips. We courageously confront the powers of evil and darkness within us and around us in the world. We embrace Christ’s suffering and death. We participate in the work of the Cross of Calvary. We do so, like Joseph, waiting expectantly for the Kingdom of God. We are baptized into his death. We share in the sacrifice of the Body of God’s eternal Son. We do so in eager expectation of the reign of God. This is the authority and power above all spiritual and earthly authority and power.

This is the victory over death and the grave that will break through our sin. The gates of hell itself will not be able to withstand the advance of the Lord of Hosts. Joseph of Arimathea may not know it now, but the Kingdom is about to break through. The tomb he so courageously and generously gave will soon no longer be needed.

“Mary and Martha's Feast,” John 12:1-8

John 12:1-8
Pastor Tom Johnson, March 13, 2016

It is dinner at Mary, Martha, and Lazarus’ house. What better way to celebrate new life and victory over death than a feast of thanksgiving. This is a feast of victory for our God—for the Messiah Jesus who raised Lazarus from the dead. The meal is a Eucharist—the bread and wine of thanksgiving. Family, friends, and the disciples gather around a table in honor and gratitude to the one who called Lazarus out from the tomb. They throw a banquet for Jesus. Martha is in the kitchen again; her gift is most certainly hospitality as she cooks up some praise and thanksgiving in the kitchen. Mary is listening to Jesus; her gift is knowledge and a prophetic vision of who this Jesus of Nazareth is.

You’ll remember that Mary and Martha once did not get along. Mary would sit at Jesus’ feet listening to his teaching while Martha worked hard on preparing a meal. But their relationship has been transformed by their relationship with Jesus.They are now partners as they each use their strengths. They bring people to a multi-sensory encounter with Jesus and the good news he embodies to the world. Taste and see that the Lord is good! They spread a table in the presence of those who will embrace him as Messiah as well as those who will betray him. Martha was once afraid to smell the remains of their brother Lazarus after he lay dead in the tomb. She is now unafraid to fill the house with the sweet aroma of food, drink, and thanksgiving. Mary does not fear either. She fills the nostrils of her guests with the sweet aroma of nard, a fragrant oil as far away as the Himalayan Mountains. Mary covers Jesus’ feet with a pound of this costly perfume. The entire house was filled with the aroma of these sisters’ sacrifice of praise. Mary’s sacrifice of praise is over-the-top. It’s expensive. It’s sensual. It’s prophetic.

Judas, the one who will betray Jesus, does not like the gift. He is offended. He thinks the money should have been used to give to the poor. He gives the appearance that he is more caring and compassionate. He wants people to think he is the champion for the poor. But the truth is he has been stealing money that had been set aside for the poor. Jesus tells Judas to leave Mary alone! “Get off her case, Judas! Sadly, the poor are here today and the poor will be here tomorrow.” The church serves Jesus when we serve the poor. And today our worship will end with the charge to remember the poor.

But the Kingdom has its priorities. And the top of the list of priorities is the mission of Jesus. He came to seek and to save the lost. He came to preach forgiveness. He came to tell us not to be anxious but know that we have eternal life in him. The core of his mission is the Cross of Calvary. This is the main event of God’s love for us—Jesus’ death for the sin of the world. Mary understands this well. This is why she uses burial perfume on Jesus’ living feet. This is her prophetic imagination at work. This is her faith in action. Mary remembers the poor. After Jesus burial, the disciples will help provide for the poor. Mary leads the way. She knows that the best thing for the poor—and all people—is for Jesus to fulfill his mission to lay his life down for the world. He will purchase souls not with silver or with gold but his precious blood. He will overcome hunger with his Body and thirst with his Blood. He will clothe those who are dressed in rags with the dazzling robe of his righteousness. He will break the cycles of poverty by overcoming the powers of darkness. He will conquer death and the grave.

Mary anointing of Jesus foreshadows Jesus anointing of us. He will not just anoint our feet but anoint our heads with oil. Our cup will run over. He will baptize us with fire and the Holy Spirit. He will turn our morning and weeping into dancing. He will not merely prepare us for burial. He will prepare us to conquer death, the evil one, and hell itself. He will give us the confidence face our future. He will give us the strength and joy to meet any challenge we face. He will remind us that greater is he who is within us than he who is in the world.

Martha’s meal foreshadows the meal Jesus will have for us. He will not only spread a table before us in the presence of our betrayers and adversaries, he will throw the greatest banquet on earth or in heaven. We will be his bride, He will be our groom. It will be an eternal marriage supper of the Lamb without end. We will not just have Brother Lazarus with us at this Kingdom meal. We will have the whole company of heaven. We will have supper with a multitude that no one can number from all tribes, nations, tongues and people.

And we don’t have to wait for the fulfillment of this promise like Mary and Martha will. We will see Sally and Michael anointed, washed, and adopted through Baptism today! We will go to the Lord’s Table today. We receive forgiveness and the assurance of eternal life today. We will celebrate the one who raises the dead with angels, archangels, and the whole company of heaven today. Mary and Martha prepare Jesus for his burial with an anointing and a meal. Jesus prepares us for our resurrection with Baptism and Communion. It is Mary and Martha and all our joy to serve him because it is Jesus’ joy to serve us.

“The Loving Father of Prodigal Children” (Luke 15.1-3,11b-32)

Luke 15.1-3,11-32

 

Pastor Tom Johnson, March 6, 2016

The father gives his son what he asks for—half of his inheritance. The son seems to find more value in a rich and dead father’s estate than a living and loving father. The father’s heart must have been broken. His son goes to a distant country. He knows his son is about to go to the school of hard knocks and has lost his senses. His son does not appreciate the loving home he is leaving. The father is also making a risky move. Amazingly—and what appears to be recklessly, the father lets his son go. The father is out of his son’s sight and out of his son’s mind. But he knows his prodigal child will continue his downward spiral. Each day he looks to the horizon. He looks as far as the eye could see. He sends out prayers in groans too deep for words. No doubt people would hear about a severe famine in a neighboring country. This would only add to a grieving father’s anxiety. How will his son survive this crisis? To what depth of need will he fall? To what lengths will he go to stay alive? And remember, the father could not check his son’s status on Facebook or read through his twitter feed. There were no snapchats or Instagrams of his son walking through a foreign country homeless. There were no selfies of him with pigs hungrily looking at their fodder.

But the father is as worldly as he is godly. He knows His son is lost to a cruel world. His son is as good as dead among a sinful and indifferent humanity. It would not be hard for him to imagine his son taking care of ritually unclean animals while at the same time not being taken care of himself. The father knows that there are many in this world who have never known an accepting, nurturing, and loving parent. He knows that many people are unable to give care and compassion to others when they have never had it themselves. The father knows, as we grow older, that the love we have been blessed with in our families is rarely matched by those who come across our paths. We are truly blessed if we have caregiver or mentors who truly care about us and nurture our development.

The more we go through life, it seems, the more impersonal relationships can become. We no longer spend the day with a caring teacher in grade school but just 50 minutes in high school and college. Police officers would like to know each kid by name in their community but have little opportunity. Those who have only had understanding and kind bosses are truly blessed. I always tell our younger members that caring people in authority become more and more rare as we get older. That is why honoring our parents is so important—to see the love we have—to not take our parents or caretakers for granted—so that it may go well for us and live long in the land. The father knows that some people care more about their pigs and wealth than they do for the people who work for them. As long as they are doing their job, it doesn’t matter to them if workers don’t have a living wage or something nutritious to eat.

But thanks be to God that the father does not stop looking toward the horizon and sending his muttering prayers to God of the fatherless. His prayers have begun to shake his son out of his senseless and deadly slumber. The kingdom of God breaks through in a moment of clarity. The truth about who the father is for the son finally takes root in this prodigal child. The father’s goodness brings his son to his senses. He has his first rational thought in a long time: “Even those who worked for my father had it better than I do now. It would be better to work for my father as a hired hand than to starve to death here.” The father’s reputation and character fuels his son’s courage to return home. It’s the good news of loving and caring parent that propels him forward. And as he goes, he confesses his sin. He rehearses his short speech of repentance: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.” Guilt and shame. Guilt; it’s about regret for the things he did, the relationships he has broken, the selfishness that consumed him, and the resources he has squandered. Shame; it’s about no longer feeling worthy to be called a daughter or son, it is the sense of worthlessness, and knowing that we dont deserve even an ounce of goodness. Guilt and shame.


Finally, the prayers of the father are answered. He sees his son on the horizon way off in the distance. The father sprints toward his son to close the gap sooner. Before his son can get a word out, his father bear hugs him and kisses him. The father’s embraces squeezes air out of his lungs and the pitiful truth: “Father, I have not only dishonored you but the God who blessed me with you. I don’t deserve to be treated as your child.” But the father will not let him finish his rehearsed speech. He won’t hear his son’s suggestion he be treated as a hired hand. The father clothes him as a true and devoted child. He adorns him with gold as a royal son. The father spreads a table before him in the presence of his adversaries even if one of them is his own brother. His cup will run over. Nothing will stop the father from celebrating his son’s return. It was his love that brought him back in the first place. He wants all prodigals to join the celebration. For he was as good as dead but now he is truly living. He was lost in a cruel world and now he is found in a loving and nurturing home. The Father gives his Son Jesus Christ away in death to a sinful, broken, and cruel world. He receives daughters and sons back permanently. He makes us worthy. He clothes us in Christ’s Baptism. He stands us up in the power of his resurrection to dwell in his house forever.