“A New Commandment” John 13:34,35

John 13:34,35

Audio Version

Pastor Tom Johnson, April 24, 2016

You’ve heard it called “The Golden Rule.” James calls it “The Royal Law” (James 2:8). “Love your neighbor as yourself.” This commandment is first given to God’s people in the Old Testament in the book of Leviticus (19:18): “You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.” Far from being a mere cliché, this Scriptural truth is a powerful reminder of how we ought to relate to one another. It is insightful instruction in how we should treat others. It encourages us ask ourselves, “How would you like it if someone did or said that to you?” It invites us to take the perspective of another person: the person who will either be the victim of our sin or the benefactor of our love. The commandment invites us to take the time “to walk a mile in someone else’s moccasins.” We should be quick to listen and slow to speak. We should develop empathy before we might say a discouraging word or act in an unloving manner. It is also profoundly convicting since we so often fail to love each other as we would want to be loved. All it means is that we take a few seconds to envision a better outcome. What a different world this would be if we all did this!

As significant as this Royal Law is, Jesus brings it to a whole new level. And He does it, ironically enough, on the night He is betrayed. He teaches us what love is when He himself is not treated as a neighbor should be—the very night He is sold for 30 shekels of silver and then betrayed with a kiss. Our Lord said, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another.” At first, it doesn’t seem like there is anything new at all. But He continues: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” The new aspect of this commandment is the Lord’s description of this love: “Just as I have loved you.” This is no ordinary commandment. This is a uniquely Christian commandment. One has to know the Gospel to understand this love. The old commandment, love your neighbor as yourself, was a commandment that only involved horizontal, human relationships. How would your fellow human being want to be treated? The new commandment, love as Christ loved us, is a commandment which also involves a vertical and divine relationship. How can I love this person in the same way Christ has loved me?

How do my actions compare with—and actually reflect—the selfless, sacrificial acts of my Lord? The new commandment invites us to take the perspective of our Savior—the One who comes, not for the righteous, but the unrighteous—to seek and to save us who are lost. Following this discussion of a New Commandment with His disciples Jesus takes bread, gives thanks, distributes it and says “Take, eat. This is my Body, given for you.” Similarly, he takes the cup of wine and says, “This cup is the New Testament in my blood which is shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.”  This is not just an illustration of love or a picture of love. Christ’s passion—His suffering and death—is the very act of love itself. The New Commandment is embodied in the bread and the wine, the Body and Blood of Jesus. We should not sentimentalize this meal any more than the commandment to love on another. We experience his love in our eating and drinking. Jesus strengthens and preserves us body and soul unto eternal life.

He loves us by Word, Bread, and Wine. He loves us by giving his Body and Blood in this meal. He loves us by giving his Body and Spirit up on the Cross. And having been loved by Jesus; we now can love like Jesus. Because his love does not just cover us from condemnation and death. It transforms us into forgiving, empathetic, self-sacrificing people. We leave the Lord’s Table and Communion together as recipients of his love. We leave as conduits and ambassadors of his love.

Praise we Him, whose love divine
Gives His sacred blood for wine
Gives His body for the feast—
Christ the victim, Christ the priest.

Easter triumph, Easter joy!
This alone can sin destroy;
From sin’s pow’r, Lord set us free,
Newborn souls in you to be.

“The Lamb will be their Shepherd” (Rev 7:9-17)

Revelation 7:9-17

 Pastor Tom Johnson, April 17, 2016

God gives John a peek into the Kingdom. That is what revelation means. God reveals spiritual reality. He peals back the veil of this earthy existence to show John the spiritual realm that is, was, and is to come. Our reading from Revelation chapter 7, along with the entire letter, will make little sense if it is approached as merely telling the future. It is descriptive of what is, what was, and what is to come just as the resurrected Christ is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and end, the One who is, who was, and is to come.

John sees a great multitude that no one can count—a company of people so numerous that no census could ever be taken. They are multi-ethnic, an international coalition, multilingual, every hue of color, and truly global. John sees the holy catholic and apostolic Church—what we will soon confess in the Creed. This is the universal body of believers. This is the baptized—dressed in pure and clean robes—washed in the blood of the Lamb. They have just come out of the great ordeal. This is the tribulation of those who are, who were, and will be. This is a snapshot of the church triumphant from dawn of creation until the dawn of the new creation—from Adam and Eve until the coming of Christ to judge the living and the dead. For those who are, this ordeal is the persecution of Christians under Rome—most likely the emperor Nero who did unspeakable things to the followers of Jesus 2000 years ago. This is why John gives Rome the code-name Babylon.

This points to back to those who were, the ordeal they suffered in captivity in historic Babylon. And before that, it was the 400 year tribulation the Israelites suffered in Egypt. Time and time again, God brought his people through pain, suffering, slavery, and bondage. For those who will be, the ordeal will be generations of Christians struggling to live out their faith in a hostile world. After, Constantine, the ordeal will be a Church battling false teaching and nominal Christianity. It will be a church fractured between east and west. It will be a struggle to preserve the doctrines of grace, which is God’s love clearly and beautifully revealed to us through his Son, Jesus Christ—salvation freely given and received by faith alone. The great ordeal is for all human history. And our struggle is not merely against flesh and blood but against the powers and principalities of this present darkness (Eph 6). As Jesus said, “In the world, you will face persecution.”

What is your great ordeal today? What is the tribulation that threatens to rob you of your joy? What is your struggle against? Is it battling your body, your spirit, or your soul? Often times, the great ordeal in our lives threatens us spiritually as much as it does physically. The sad truth is that all human history has been a great ordeal—from the eating of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil until the serpent of old is thrown into the lake of fire along with sin and the power of death. God gives John a vision and revelation of the way things are, have been, and will be. It is not looking at life through rose-colored glasses so that everything looks rosy. The great ordeal is what it is.

But God invites us to look at our great ordeal through the lens of the resurrected Christ! On this side of eternity, we will always wrestle with the power of sin, death, and palpable evil. “In the world you will face persecution. But take courage;” Jesus says, “I have conquered the world!” (John 16:33). Our Scripture invites us to look at the vast number of God’s people from all human history—from the beginning to the end of time—and all the time in between. We are the church triumphant! We stand in the triumph of the resurrection! Just as we say every week before we receive Communion—“therefore with angels, and archangels, and all the company of heaven, we laud and glorify your glorious name”—the strong name of Christ who died and rose again from the dead. Our robes have been laundered to perfection. We are clean, pure, and holy in God’s sight. Our sins have been washed away—not with detergent and launders soap—but with the precious blood of the Lamb.

The Lamb has met us in our great ordeal. He joined us in our ordeal. He took the great ordeal upon himself—the ordeal that threatened and plagued all humanity in every age. His ordeal culminated at the tribulation of the Cross of Calvary. There he struggled against and battled our sin, death, and the power of hell itself. The Lamb of God lay his life down for the world. And three days later, the Lamb rose triumphantly as the Shepherd who has conquered death and all that threatens us. This is the Lamb who has become our Shepherd. He became Victim to become our Victor. He shed his blood on the Cross so that he could wash away the sins of the world. He leads us safely through dark valleys and great ordeals. He causes us to stand in the company of the triumphant to celebrate his victory. “Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil. My cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”

“Worthy is the Lamb” (Revelation 5:2-14; John 21:1-19)

Revelation 5:2-14 John 21:1-19

Pastor Tom Johnson, April 10, 2016

The scene in heaven begins the angel asking the colossal question, “Who is worthy?” “Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?” (Rev 5:2b). No one worthy can be found—even in the company of heavenly beings. So John begins to weep bitterly. Even the perfect, heavenly angels are not worthy. No one is found who qualifies. No one is righteous enough or pure enough to break the seals and unroll this holy scroll of Scripture. No one has the authority, power, spiritual capital or credentials to reveal the Word.

John weeps bitterly because it is a bitter pill to swallow: we are not worthy. We cannot make ourselves worthy. We cannot make ourselves acceptable to God by our own effort, our own merit, our own supposed righteousness. Martin Luther in his catechism says, “I cannot by my own reason or strength…come to him.” Hours of meditation, prayer, or ritual will not transcend this reality. We cannot become worthy by our own reason or strength. We cannot give our time, talent, and treasure to purchase this worthiness or God’s love and acceptance. There is no humility for those who think they are worthy—only pharisaical pride. There is no joy for those who think themselves to be worthy—for they have only themselves for their accomplishments—not God.

You’ll remember Peter who was a professional fisherman when he first encountered Jesus. That early morning he had to confront his own failure. He spent all night fishing and caught nothing. But at Jesus’ word, He caught more fish than he could have imagined. Peter said, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord” (Luke 5:8). “Get away from me, Jesus. Because Your words and actions reveal my true self—that I am empty of any merit. I am unworthy.” It is alarming to realize that it is only by Christ’s worthiness that he caught such an abundance of fish.

You’ll remember John the Baptist who had the same self-understanding. His first words about our Lord were, “I baptize you with water, but he who is mightier than I is coming, the strap of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie.” (Luke 3:16). John is the greatest of mortals, Jesus tells us. He is more than a prophet. And yet, he is empty of worthiness—no spiritual capital of his own making. John the Baptist is unworthy to do even the most mundane act: to untie the Lord’s sandal.

You’ll remember the prodigal son from a few weeks ago. The first evidence that he has come to his senses is when he plans to his father, “I am no longer worthy to be called your son!” (Luke 15:19).

The angels tell John to stop crying. Why? Because the Lion of Judah, the Root of David, the great Conqueror is here. Remember the strong angel’s question: “Who is worthy?”? A great company of sinless, perfected saints and angels ask that. Even these creatures are not worthy as the resurrected Jesus is worthy. Which is even more sobering. Because even if we could achieve perfection and sinlessness here on earth as the angels have in heaven, it would still not make us worthy.

This morning we see the transformation of Peter. When he first encountered Jesus after a failed night fishing, he shrunk back in fear and shame that he was a sinful man. His was confronted by his failure and unworthiness. After the resurrection, Peter encounters Jesus again, as we heard earlier in our Gospel reading. Peter experiences another night of failed fishing. And not only that—but he had just denied Him three times—the rooster’s crow still ringing in his ears. But when the Lord fills his nets with fish this time, he does not shrink back from Jesus but flees toward Him. His guilt and shame melt away by the overwhelming forgiveness of His Savior. Peter is so overcome with resurrection joy that he cannot wait for the boat to reach the shore. He jumps in and swims toward Jesus.

And so it is for us. God makes us worthy by him who is worthy—the Lamb of God. As the heavenly song to our risen Lord says, “By Your blood You ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation, and You have made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on the earth” (Rev 5:9). We are worthy to be here because of Him who shed His precious blood for us. We come to Jesus drenched from head to toe in our baptism. He washes away our sin, guilt, and shame. We are worthy because he who is worthy has made us worthy. And so we join the heavenly chorus of praise to our Redeemer: “Worthy is the Lamb that was slaughtered to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing! … “To the one seated on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever” (Rev 5:13).

Let praises ring;
Give thanks, and bring
To Christ our Lord adoration.
His honor speed
By word and deed
To ev’ry land, ev’ry nation.
So shall His love
Give us above,
From misery
And death set free,
All joy and full consolation.            (from “With High Delight Let Us Unite” (LSB 483 v. 1)

“Doubting Thomas” (John 20:19-31)

John 20:19-31

   

Pastor Tom Johnson, April 3, 2016

Thomas missed church last Sunday. That is what our reading tells us. The 10 other disciples gathered together the first day of the week. They locked and secured the doors because they feared a raid at any time—to be arrested and taken away just as they did to Jesus just days before. What did Thomas miss the previous Sunday? The resurrected Jesus! Jesus walked right through the locked doors in his glorified body! He said, “Shalom—peace be with you.” He showed them the marks in his hands where the nails pieced him. He displayed the wound in his side from the spear the soldier used to confirm he was dead. This is the Messiah who was pierced for our transgressions. This is the King of kings from whom blood and water poured out for the forgiveness of sins. Just as God breathed life into the nostrils of Adam to become a living being, Jesus breathes new life into the disciples’ nostrils with the Holy Spirit. He empowers them and commissions them to carry on his ministry of forgiveness. Thomas not only missed a prayerful gathering the previous Sunday. He missed an encounter with the eternal Son of God in his miraculous, glorified body—a body that still proclaimed his triumph over death. Thomas missed being encouraged and commissioned by the Messiah himself.

We call Thomas “Doubting Thomas.” Maybe he is regretful Thomas—or Johnny come lately Thomas. He is certainly cynical Thomas. “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe—or, I will never believe.” He is tactile Thomas. It is not enough to see and believe. He wants to see and touch to verify that he is truly the resurrected Christ and not some apparition or ghost. He is wagering Thomas. His bet is that unless God grants him an opportunity for a personal encounter, he will never believe.

What I like about Thomas—besides his very fashionable name—is that he has the courage and honesty to speak truth. And he does so from his heart. Thomas says he will not believe unless he sees and touches Jesus. It encourages me that I have permission to admit my own doubts, cynicism, and bargaining with God. There have been times when I also entertained the idea that some clever first century Israelites came up with the Jesus myth. It’s okay for us to confess our anxiety about being truly alone in the universe. We are to cast all our cares upon God. That includes our admission that our faith is struggling, weak, or even on its last leg. And here is some good news: we are not saved by our faith that we conjure up on our own. We are saved through faith that God gives, faith that he strengthens, and faith that he nurtures. Faith is a gift. It’s okay to admit our cynicism. If you feel like you have been burned before, you are not alone. Think about Thomas: he saw the Messiah he trusted betrayed by one of the other disciples, thrown under the bus by the religious authorities, and violently killed by the Roman authority. It is sometimes difficult to learn to trust again. We have been let down personally, politically, and religiously. And like Thomas, we build a protective wall around us to prevent anyone from getting in. “Unless I am proven otherwise, I will not believe.”

“Unless my demand is met to see, touch Jesus’ body,” Thomas bargains with God, “I will never believe.” It is wise advice to never say never to God. Or if you do, expect God to defy our oaths. There are two reasons for this: First, “What is impossible for mortals is possible for God” and, second, God has a sense of humor. It’s Sunday again. Thomas is there with the other disciples behind locked doors. And Jesus shows up again in his glorified body—his body that walks through walls and appears out of thin air. “Shalom—peace be with you,” Jesus says again. Then he turns to Thomas, and tells him to stick his fingers in the wounds where the nails pierced him. He invites him to put his hand where the spear pierced his side.

Jesus knows about Thomas’ wager. He calls him at his bluff. Because Thomas sees but never touches. And he says one of the greatest confessions of faith ever uttered: “My Lord and my God!” He sees with his eyes but does not touch with his fingers or his hands. Thomas loses his own bet. And Jesus, with his wry and gracious sense of humor, does not do what he does to win an argument. He does so to win a soul. And so he promises to graciously, lovingly, and humorously win the souls of the world. That is the way it works in the Kingdom of God, Jesus says. We walk by faith, not by sight. Those that follow will be blessed even though they do not see the resurrected Christ. We have life in his name—the strong name of Jesus who forgives, wins over, encourages, and gives assurane of eternal life.