“The House of David” (Luke 1:32; 2 Samuel 7:1-11,16)

Luke 1:26-38
2 Samuel 7:1-11,16

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“The Throne of David” Luke 1:32; 2 Samuel 7:1-11,16

"David" by Michelangelo (1501 - 1504)

Pastor Tom Johnson, December 20, 2020

In Luke’s Gospel, the angel Gabriel ingeniously connects our Old Testament reading from 2 Samuel chapter 7 to Mary’s pregnancy. He tells her it’s the fulfillment of God’s promise her Son will reign on King David’s throne forever. When we look at the Old Testament more carefully, we see that the unexpected is what we should come to expect. David wants to build God a house. You’ll remember that ever since the time of the Exodus, the Ark of the Covenant dwelt in a tabernacle. Tabernacle is just another word for tent. Through the prophet Nathan, God says to David, “Thanks but no thanks.” “When have I ever asked for you to build me a house—a temple made of cedar, precious stones, gold and silver? I have been living in a tent for centuries,” God says. “No, I will build you a house, David.”

The house God promises to build David is one that is not made with human hands or of wood, stone, or metal. It is made through human flesh. God is talking about the descendants of David. He will extend David’s reign forever. This is similar to the way we talk about the White House. It’s a seat of power that is passed down from administration to administration. So, God promises David that he would have sons and grandsons that would rule in his name forever. For centuries after, it seems like God did not fulfill his promise. There are many wicked kings that follow David. The line eventually runs out when conquered by foreign empires—the latest being the Roman Empire. Herod tries to kill off the line of David shortly after Jesus, the descendent of David is born. The Roman Empire eventually destroys the House of God—the Temple in the year 70.

Tragically, this is universal, human nature. In our nation, we are in a current battle for the White House and a majority of seats in the Senate. There is nothing new under the sun. We can complain but our leaders are but a reflection of all of us. We too can be all about our own comfort, maintaining our power and possessions, and want to pass on our wealth and power to those most like us or bear our names. We can fall into the trap of discontentment—unhappy with our homes, relationships, and material possessions. How can there be any peace on earth? How can we be a perfect union? How can we bring joy to the world? How can we accomplish any good if it is every person for themself? How can we if it is all about me and not about we?

The amazing thing in our Old Testament Scripture is that God says he is content to be in a temporary, portable tent. The angel Gabriel is showing us the continuity of who God is from ages ago—even since before the foundation of the world. The Eternal Son of God—the One who has no beginning or end—the one who sits on his eternal throne since before the creation of the universe. This King of kings and Lord of lords leaves his heavenly house to take up residence in the womb of Mary. He exchanges his timeless, eternal reign for a sac of amniotic fluid. He trades a house made of fine stones, gold, silver, and gates of pearl for an abode of flesh—a chamber with a uterine wall. Instead of a heavenly throne, footstool, and scepter; the Son of David will float in amniotic fluid tethered to his mother by an umbilical cord. Instead of being born into privilege and prestige. He will be born in a stable—in the margins—among a suffering people longing for physical and spiritual salvation.

In John’s Gospel, it literally says, “The Word became flesh and tabernacled among us” (1:14). The Alpha and Omega steps out of eternity into time and space. His tent—what Jesus later calls his Temple—is his human body. The house of David is now the Body of Jesus, descended from David, conceived by the Holy Spirit. And if that is not miracle enough—that God would take on our humanity—he does so to make a home for himself in all of our hearts—to dwell richly in each of our lives. And he dies and rises again to purchase a place for us in his heavenly home.  He ascends to the Father and assures us that before he comes back again, he prepares a place for us in his house—there are many mansions—many rooms he says. And as his great grandfather King David said at the end of Psalm 23, “I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” So just like David, we can pray for God to make his home with us permanently. But just as he did with David, God wants to make a home for us. He does both. He makes his home with us. And one day he will bring us to our heavenly home.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,

And open wide our heav’nly home;

Make safe the way that leads on high,

And close the path to misery.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

          (“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” LSB 357 v. 5)

May it be so quickly. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

“My soul proclaims; my spirit rejoices” (Luke 1:46-55)

Luke 1:46-55

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Raphael, The Holy Family with a Lamb, 1507, Museo del Prado, Madrid, Spain

Pastor Tom Johnson, December 13, 2020

“My soul magnifies the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.” This is the refrain we sang from the Magnificat—or the Song of Mary. Mary sings this in response to Elizabeth’s announcement that she is pregnant with John the Baptist. Elizabeth and her unborn child celebrate the child to be born of Mary. My soul magnifies the Lord—my soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord. My spirit rejoices in God my Savior. Why doesn’t she say, “I proclaim; I rejoice”? Instead, Mary says, “My soul proclaims; my spirit rejoices.” Scripture says, “For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Hebrews 4:12).

Mary speaks from her immaterial core. This praise and joy originates from her soul—her spiritual self. We often speak in terms of our bodies, minds, and spirits. For our purposes, we will not try to distinguish between soul and spirit but simply know that the Word of God has the wisdom and power to do so. Mary’s soul and spirit are stirred by the Word of God, the Holy Spirit, and the Word made flesh in her womb. And because of that stirring deep within her being, she has found her voice and joy. She proclaims the Lord’s greatness. She rejoices in God her Savior. From the core of her being, she proclaims and rejoices in the greatness of God and his salvation. She celebrates how God is a God who turns the world upside down. He humbles the proud and powerful. He lifts up the lowly and feeds the hungry with good things. He causes the rich to experience the poverty of their souls.

Through the birth of this Christ Child, he makes good his promise to deliver his mercy. He is faithful to his people. And now Mary can be assured of a redemptive future because of our redemptive past. This pregnant teenager, whose only excuse for her pregnancy is conception by the Holy Spirit, has the amazing courage to lift up her voice and proclaim God’s greatness and express her joy for God, his ways, and his faithfulness.

But Mary’s voice and joy will be tested. Her faith will be tried. She and her husband Joseph will not be able to find suitable housing after a long journey to Bethlehem for the census—even at the critical time when she gives birth. She will be perplexed by what the shepherds tell her about the angels. She will be astounded by foreign travelers bringing costly gifts. She will be terrorized by King Herod who tries to kill all the toddlers and infants in Bethlehem including baby Jesus. She, Joseph, and their newborn become refugees in Egypt. And yet, through all her difficulty, Scripture says that she “pondered” and “treasured all these things in her heart” (Luke 2:19,51). She kept nurturing her core. She kept feeding her soul with God’s Word, faithfulness, and promises. The Apostle Paul echos Mary’s sentiment when he says, “So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day.” So we have the assurance that our souls can proclaim and our spirits can rejoice even in the midst of physical suffering. God’s joy transcends all.

And what of our current difficulty? How do we navigate the turmoil in our cities, in our nation, and in our world? Have we allowed the power-hungry to devour our joy? Have we let the proud, the rich, and the powerful to bully us and make us feel powerless and voiceless?  

In Mary’s song, might does not make right. The loudest are not the truest. The wealthy may be prospering in body but not necessarily in soul and spirit. Pride and conceit do not lift anyone up but even tear the proud themselves down. Mary is confident that worldliness, evil, and sin cannot rob her of her joy. No one can silence her message of hope and salvation. Mary has found her voice. She has found her joy. Mary is there to lead us. Her song gives us the Word and example we need to find our own voice—our own song—our own joy—no matter our circumstances—no matter what threatens—no matter how loud our adversary—no matter how powerful our enemies—no matter how much evil puffs itself up.

“Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? ...No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom 8:35-39).

This is the song of Mary. This is the way of Jesus and the way of the Cross. We live in a sinful and broken world. But God repairs this world one soul at a time. He rebuilds our lives from the inside-out and the bottom-up. Our souls proclaim the greatness of the Lord who conquers sin, evil, and death on the Cross of Calvary—and again when he rises victorious from the dead—and again when he comes back in glory to judge the living and the dead. Our spirits rejoice in God our Savior when he cries out, “It is finished!” and commends his spirit to God his Heavenly Father. Our spirits will rejoice when Jesus comes to renew the heavens and the earth and make all things new. Even so. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

“All people are grass” (Isaiah 40:1-11)

Isaiah 40:1-11

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Pastor Tom Johnson, December 6, 2020

Today we hear a voice crying out in the wilderness. It is Isaiah’s prophetic vision of John the Baptist. It is for the comfort of the people of God. It’s also a call for us to lift our voice up together and be the herald of good tidings. Comfort, O comfort my people...speak tenderly...cry out to her... And what’s the message? “All people are grass their constancy is like the flower of the field. ...The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever.”

The word grass here is not referring to a specific type of field grass but vegetation in general. The class of vegetation are called ephemerals. They are any short-lived plant. They sprout up, grow, blossom, and die in a matter of weeks. In contrast, perennials are plants that live for two or more years. They survive through all the seasons and severe weather conditions such as freezing temperatures, the hot and dry sun, flood, and drought. The prophet reminds us of our ephemeral nature. Compared to the lifespan of a human being, ephemerals have a very fleeting life. Their vitality lasts only for a short season. Their floral beauty only lasts for days.

As a very young child, I have vivid memories of a large field down the street from my home. In the spring, golden yellow flowers would blossom. The field became a deep, green canvas with lots of yellow brush strokes all over. But then in just a matter of days, the yellows turned to grays and whites. As I walked into the field and plucked up the dead flowers, I enjoyed blowing the seeds away. Each seed had a miniature cotton parachute. By my breath, the little white helicopters would fly away in a tight formation. Even as a child, I seemed to stand outside and loom large over the short lifespan of this flower turned flying-cotton seeds.

Compared to the lifespan of God’s Word, humanity has a very fleeting life. Scripture says, “With the Lord day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day” (2 Peter 3:8). God stands outside creation and sees the whole of human history in a glance. He sees empires rise and fall...generations of families come and go like the dandelions that blossom into golden flowers that just days later fly away in grays and whites. Sadly, in these last months, we are reminded more than ever of our ephemeral nature. The pandemic is claiming record numbers of lives. We have already seen multiple seasons of surges and flattening.  In addition to that, we still continue to have even more deaths due to heart disease and cancer. But because of the pandemic in these last months, we seem to stare at death more candidly. We are more keenly aware of our temporal and mortal nature. As children of God, we also remember that we are all plagued not only by death but also by sin and evil. And so, as the prophet Isaiah foreshadowed, John the Baptist cries out comfort and a reckoning for our sin, evil, and death in the world.

God does not wants us to live in denial of death but to recognize its reality in light of his grace. This is wisdom. By recognizing life’s brevity and frailty, we cherish our lives all the more. We step back and consider how our lives fit into God’s eternal plan. We repent; which means God changes our life’s path for the better. God wants us to redeem our lives and our time now. Our text from Isaiah says, God  wants to gather us like lambs into his arms today, carry us in his embrace, and gently lead us as our Good Shepherd into our eternal future with him. Through John the Baptist, God calls us to the water, the river Jordan. By the washing of the water and the Word, we receive forgiveness, cleansing, and a fresh start. This new life is not a fleeting one of just water as John himself says but points to the baptism of Jesus who infuses new and eternal life by the Holy Spirit. 

So the prophet Isaiah hears God’s cry out of comfort: “The grass withers, the flower fades but the word of our God will stand forever.” The Word of God is the seed God plants into the soil of our hearts. It is the tree in Psalm 1 that is planted by streams of water...“whose leaves do not wither and in whatever we do by the strength of the Word prospers us.” 

The Word of God is the Word made flesh. He is the eternal Son of God, uncreated, without beginning, and will have no end. He is the One born of Mary in a stable. He was planted in Galilean soil and grew in stature before God and humanity. He is the one who is mightier than John the Baptist and more powerful than any mere mortal. He is the enfleshed Word who stands forever. And not only that, he is the One who hold us up and causes us to stand. As Scripture says in Romans 14, “[we] will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make [us] stand” (v. 4). And so we stand and live now by the Word made flesh in the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.

We hail Thee as our Savior, Lord,
Our refuge and our great reward;
Without Thy grace we waste away
Like flow’rs that wither and decay.

Lay on the sick Thy healing hand
And make the fallen strong to stand;
Show us the glory of Thy face
Till beauty springs in ev’ry place.
          ("On Jordan’s Bank the Baptist’s Cry," LSB 344, vv. 3-4)

May it be so quickly. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

“We are the clay” (Isaiah 64:1-9)

Isaiah 64:1-9

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Pastor Tom Johnson, November 29, 2020

I love the boldness of the prayer of the day: “Stir up your power, O Lord, and come!” During Advent we pray, “Come, Lord Jesus!” Our reading from Isaiah also begins: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!” In Isaiah, it is a prayer for God to leave his heavenly throne, rip a whole in the universe, step out of his timeless and eternal domain, enter into our world and time, and restore all that has been lost by war, injustice, and famine. I can’t help but think of our current global crisis. So many lives have been lost. So many jobs have been lost. There is so much conflict in our neighborhoods, between local, state, and national politicians, and between nations. There is real hunger and food insecurity in our nation and world. We have a global pandemic still surging. Do we have the same boldness to pray? “God, do something for our world! Get off your heavenly throne, come down, put terror into our enemies, fix what is broken, and bring your healing and peace.”

As Isaiah’s prayer continues, he begins to come to his senses. It’s a good example of how prayer can also be contemplative. He meditates on God’s Word. He begins to remember his own nature—and all of human nature. We are the ones that have messed everything up. We want God to fix what we have broken. Isaiah paints an image of our sin: we are all wearing blood-stained, filth-covered clothing because of our sin.  Our sin is not just what we do or fail to do. Our sin is like a hot, dry wind that causes our lives to fade, wither, and get blown away—like all the leaves we see at this time of year, scattered all around. Our transgressions make us unworthy

But then he remembers God’s character. He remembers that God has torn open the heavens and reached his mighty hand through to transform this world. But they are not hands grasping for mountains and waging war.  They are the hands of the Potter. His hands are covered with the dust of the earth and smeared with wet clay. “Yet, O Lord,” Isaiah prayerfully recalls, “you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.”  God took this formless void, spun it on its axis, and began to run his creative hands deep within its core to the outer rim. His hands formed the sea and the dry land. His hands dug out canyons and built mountains.  The Potter’s hands scooped clay out of the ground and formed Adam into his likeness. He breathed the Spirit of life into his nostrils and he became a living being. He was put in the garden which the Potter made. The fruit trees and vegetable plants were planted and potted into his nutritious soil. “You are our Father,” the clay remembers. In our prayers we bring to mind our true relationship with God. He is the one who made us and not we ourselves. He is our Creator first made by his potter’s hands. 

Last week, I saw a young potter in the window in my neighborhood. He has older-designed wheel that does not require electricity. He can spins the wheel at his own rhythm or slower speed by his foot-powered device. The potter throws down a formless chunk of clay into the middle of the stone wheel. He pedals it into motion. His arms are covered with dust from his elbows down to his wrists and hands.  As the clay spins, his fingertips are darken by the wet clay. He dips his fingers into muddy water. The tips of his fingers lovingly and artistically mold the clay from the bottom up, then from the top down. He expands the center and then chisels the excess clay off with his fingers like blades. The passion and pride is writ large on the potters face. The shapeless heap of earth becomes a useful vessel—a vase with perfect curves to display an array of flowers, a perfectly round plate to enjoy the bounty of the earth, a beautifully useful mug to share a hot drink and fellowship with a friend or loved one.

And so the prophet’s prayer concludes, “We are the clay. And you are our potter. We are all the work of your hand.” The change we long for has not yet come with sensational displays in the skies and the quaking of the mountains. It comes through God molding and shaping us into his instruments and vessels. Just as in the Lord’s first coming. He did not come in great cosmic displays but came into the flesh—out of the heart of the same earth you and I are made. He grew in stature before God and people, formed perfectly into the image of God.  

When Jesus comes back, he will crash through and roll back the heavens as one rolls back a scroll and restore all creation. But in the meantime, our prayers lead us back to what God has done and to what he is doing now. He restores through us. He is our Father. He is the potter. He has taken us out of formless void. He spins us through time at his own rhythms. With pride and joy, he lovingly runs his fingers through the core of our being. We will never be the same. Each vessel is unique—each of us a one-of-a-kind example of the Potter’s mastery, creativity, and love...each of us fearfully and wonderfully made. He dips his hands in baptismal waters. His fingers purge and flake off the imperfections and flaws by the water and the Spirit. He claims us as his children and himself as our Father. He stirs up his power and comes. He tears the heavens open to lovingly mold and shape us into the people of God he wants us to be. We are not only recipients of the Potter’s loving creation. We are also vessels for his glory and the restoration for which we have prayed. 

“Authenticity” (Matthew 25:31-46)

Matthew 25:31-46

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Pastor Tom Johnson, November 22, 2020

Matthew chapters 24 and 25 is a sermon—Jesus’ last words before he is arrested that he spoke on the Mount of Olives. It’s why it’s called the Olivet Discourse. It answers the disciples’ question, “What will be the sign of the end of the age?" Jesus warns his disciples against those who say, “I am the christ.” Beware of the self-proclaimed messiahs who rise up after his death, resurrection, and ascension. Don’t go after them, Jesus warns. They will lead many astray. 

It may seem by the parable of the sheep and goats that on the last day, we will be judged by how kind we are to the poor and indigent people. It seems it does not matter what one believes. It seems that our salvation is based on our good works. This could not be further from the truth. Both the sheep and the goats identify as disciples of Jesus. Both the sheep and the goats are part of what theologians call the visible church—those we humans see as followers of Jesus. In this parable, the Good Shepherd sees what we cannot see. He knows the history and, more importantly, the hearts of these sheep and goats. He knows what they did. He knows why they did what they did. He knows their motive and hearts.

It’s clear from the context that the goats are those who are deceived into thinking they are true followers of Jesus. “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” “Truly I tell you,” Jesus says, “just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.” Instead, the goats followed the false messiahs. We know from history that after Jesus’ earthly ministry, false messiahs rose up. They led many to start rebellions war in order to liberate Israel from Roman occupation. Even Jesus’ disciples wanted to know after Jesus’ ascension if that was the time when he would restore the kingdom to Israel. Jesus says, “It is not for you to know...but you will be my witnesses” (Acts 1:6-8). From the beginning of Matthew in his sermon on the mount, Jesus said the church will be “persecuted for righteousness’ sake...they will revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.” (Matthew 5:10,11). The goats self-deception is due to their pride that they were faithful. But while true followers of Jesus were being persecuted, hungry, sick, and in prison, the goats were more preoccupied with living and dying by the sword and bringing in political liberation than they were nurturing the faith and lives of true believers.

I believe this parable is a warning to us as God’s people not to be seduced by the battles of worldly kingdoms around us. We should beware of those who politicize Christianity and Christianize politics. This is the spirit of the antichrist. We can deceive ourselves into thinking we are doing good for society, country, neighbor, and church by taking up these earthly battles. But, instead, we have strayed off into the way of the goats instead of following the Good Shepherd as his sheep. Jesus tells us again and again to take up our cross—not our swords.

The sheep and the goats is not about social ministry wherever we find our neighbor in need. There are plenty of Scriptures about taking care of the needy. This is not one of those Scriptures. This is about Christians caring for other Christians.  Our lives have been so deeply impacted by the Gospel of Jesus Christ that we unselfconsciously serve our sisters and brothers in Christ. “We love because God first loved us” (1 Jn 4:19). Or as Jesus says so pointedly says, “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (Jn 13:35). In other words, our minds are so saturated by Christ’s love for us as the family of God, we don’t even hesitate or have to think about reaching out to one another when we are in need. When one part of the Body hurts the whole Body suffers. 

This final parable before Jesus’ arrest, crucifixion, death, and resurrection is about how we are to live to the end. And how is that? With authenticity. We are to genuinely live out our faith knowing that we cannot fool God. He wants us to be so overwhelmed by his authentic love for us that we authentically love one another. We don’t even think about it, it’s so part of who we are as sisters and brothers and children of God. “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison?” Jesus’ answer: “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family you did it to me.” This is good news! Jesus’ sheep  know that they have not earned nor do they deserve forgiveness and eternal life. It’s a gift, by grace alone through faith. Christ  alone dies and rises again to secure our salvation. Here is an amazing truth: Jesus receives love from us when we authentically love one another.

During these days of the pandemic, we know our lives are secure in the hand of Christ our King. No one can snatch us out of his hand. He alone knows the number of our days. He is the Alpha and Omega. He knows our past, present, and future. He invites us into his Kingdom prepared since before the foundation of the world. The surpassing peace of Christ and comfort we have in the Gospel frees us to get our eyes off ourselves, to live in awe of his love for us, and to selflessly love and care for one another in authenticity. When the world sees how we care for one another and how our lives have been transformed by our faith in Christ, they will want to know more about this Jesus. This is how the sheepfold and family of God grows: more sisters and brothers in Christ who authentically love one another because of Christ our King’s love for us.

“The Joy of the Master” Matthew 25:14-30

Matthew 25:14-30

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Pastor Tom Johnson, November 15, 2020

Jesus’ parable of the talents is a story of a master who goes away on a long journey. He leaves his three slaves behind. Each of them is given bags of money. A talent of silver would have been worth millions—a talent of gold tens of millions. We should remember that these are slaves. Jesus’ parable does not legitimize slavery as an institution. But it helps us understand the uniqueness of this particular master. He entrusts these slaves with wealth that would take lifetimes to earn. He goes on a long journey. When he returns, he calls them to account. The one he knew he could entrust the most yielded the most. The one who he could entrust the least yielded nothing. 

There was no stock market—no way to multiply wealth like this without creativity, ingenuity, and hard work. They would have purchased a business or started one up from scratch. The would have sown seeds, baked bread, mended tents, constructed boats—anything to earn money. When the master finally returns, those who invested, worked, and doubled the master’s wealth show their healthy pride and joy in faithfully serving their master. “Look, master, I made double of what you gave me!”

But there is the one slave who did nothing. He was the one entrusted with the least. The master knew his ability and character and lack thereof. And, yet, the master still is generous and entrusts a vast amount of wealth to him. But he merely buries this huge bag of gold in the ground. What if he died before his master’s return? His investment would be lost. He does not purchase a field, hire workers, or yield a harvest. He does not buy cedar from Lebanon to build homes. The only work he does is to dig a hole in the ground. He is indeed lazy.

He is indeed wicked. What is his defense when he is called to account? “Master, I knew you to be harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Take what is yours.” It’s not unlike humanity’s fall into sin when God shows up after they ate the forbidden fruit. Adam says, “The woman you gave me, O Lord…” Adam blames his disobedience on God and his wife! So the slave puts the blame on the master! That is what happens when we believe a lie—our actions—our inaction—flow from our unbelief and a lack of trust in the Master. He calls the master harsh. And, yet, we know the master was remarkably trusting and generous toward his slaves. 

He accuses the master of reaping where he did not sow. But where did the funds to purchase the field and the seed come from? Where did the money to pay the laborers who reaped come from? The master. He is the source of all this goodness. “So I was afraid,” says the lazy slave. Again, we see that the opposite of faith is not unbelief but fear. The slave should have trusted in the goodness of the master. Instead he is paralyzed by fear—fear based on a lie that maligned the master. 

I believe Jesus’ parable teaches us that character matters, integrity matters. What we do when think no one is watching matters. What we fail to do before Jesus comes back again matters. Scripture says, “Each of us will give an account” (Rom 14:12). Here is an alarming truth: there will be no faithfulness or productivity if we believe Christ our Master is harsh, greedy, and unfair. Bad works flow from a bad theology. You’ll remember the Reformer Martin Luther was so overwhelmed by his belief in a wrathful, demanding God that he said he hated God. We too will be paralyzed by fear… We will justify our laziness… We will blame God and not ourselves for our wickedness… IF we have a wrong view of God...if our view of the Lord Jesus, our Master is twisted and skewed...if we let fear overcome our faith...we will be held captive to our flawed imagination of God.

God’s gifts are there all along. The slave could have dug up the bag of gold at any time. He cheated himself out of participating in the rich work of the master’s kingdom. He could have taken the risk to act—to invest—to take a step of faith. God gave him riches to grow and bring him and the master greater joy. He accuses the master of being harsh, greedy, and unfair. But he just witnessed how the master treated his faithful slaves. He said, “You have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter the joy of your master.”

These are astounding words that describe the hope of our Lord’s return. God has invested millions—tens of millions of riches and grace into our lives. He calls them “a few things” compared to the “many things” of the life of the world to come. We will be rewarded exponentially for our faithfulness to God’s gifts by many more of God’s gifts. Our Master is not harsh but exceedingly and eternally generous.  Our courage to overcome our fears to utilize the gifts God has given us come from our confidence in his goodness and his faith in us. Our Master reaps what he sows through us—just as Paul said, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God caused the growth” (1 Cor 3:6).  He says to the faithful slaves, “Enter the joy of your master.” These are not words of a master to a slave—treated as property. These are words of affection and adoption. The Master treats them as heirs—as sons. 

So God invites us into the joys of our Master Jesus as children. Our Master was filled with joy even when he suffered and died for us to purchase the riches of forgiveness and eternal life for us. Scripture says it was “the joy that was set before him that he endured the cross” (Heb 12:2). Yes, we are accountable to God. But it’s not to paralyze us but energize us. We may need to dig up some of those gifts we have squandered and neglected. And then we invest the riches he has given us—trusting his goodness, love, and generosity. We live our lives in our baptismal adoption as children of God. The joy of the Master is always with us and eternally before us. We enter the joy of the Master when we participate in his Kingdom here with his riches. It is but a foretaste of the surpassing joy of the world to come—“what no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him” (1 Cor 2:9). When our Master returns, we will enter his joy once again—not at slaves but as his beloved daughters and sons as he welcomes us into his eternal home.

“Let Justice Roll Down Like Waters” Amos 5:18-24

Amos 5:18-24

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Pastor Tom Johnson, November 8, 2020

The Old Testament people of God had a day that they were longing for—a day of fulfillment, a day of reckoning, and a day of completion. This day is a day Amos calls “the Day of the Lord.” The day they were longing for was a day of preservation and salvation for them and them alone. It was a day of political victory—a day when all enemies are annihilated by Messiah and enjoy peace.

God says to them, “Why? Why would you desire such a day? Why do you desire a Day of the Lord of that sort? It is a darkness, and not a light. It is gloom with no brightness in it.” As the people of God, they should have longed for and worked for the day when they would fulfill Abraham’s promise “that all nations—all the families of the earth shall be blessed through them” (Gen 12). Instead, they wanted an end to the troubles the surrounding nations caused. They wanted mere political liberation. They wanted Messiah to come with his sword and cast fire, smoke, and judgment on their oppressors. But this is not who Messiah is. Jesus, true Messiah, commands us to pray for our enemies, not hope for their demise. Jesus calls us to love our enemies, not celebrate their impending doom. The truth is that we all have common enemies—sin, evil, and death. Jesus comes to bring salvation and justice for all people.

If our faith is merely about whom we are against and not whom we are for, God says he hates our outward religion. “I hate, I despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies.”  Why? Because we are only concerned about our own self-preservation. We only want an end of our troubles. We only long for an escape from this broken world. It is self-centered and selfish. The golden rule—the royal law is to love our neighbors as ourselves. As Jesus put it, we are to love others as he has loved us.

You’ll remember that Jesus said in his sermon on the mount that if you are offering your gift at the altar and remember that your sister or brother in the Lord has something against you. Leave your gift there and first be reconciled to that person. Then come back and offer your gift (Matt 5:23,24). As Scripture says in 1 John (4:20): “Those who say, ‘I love God,’ and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen.” It’s a disturbing thought: God does not want us to pretend that everything is great with our relationship with him if our relationships with one another are broken. We may be only fooling ourselves. God sees through our phoniness. If our prayers and our worship and our offerings are about self-preservation and self-righteousness, God is not impressed. 

The great commandment is for us to love God with our whole being—to do so with authenticity. Because the other command, that cannot be separated from that one, is to love our neighbor. And so God says, “let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream!” God wants to cultivate justice in the world. He wants justice and righteousness flow out of his people and church now. The Reformer Martin Luther said of the command You shall not murder, “We should fear and love God so that we do not hurt or harm our neighbor in his body, but help and support him in every physical need.” Jesus spent his life bringing healing, good, and hope to the world in his earthly ministry. So we should care about the hungry, poor, downtrodden, victimized, and those treated unfairly. We cannot do it all. There will not be full justice until he returns. But God does call for us to collectively do our part as his people.

We need to guard ourselves from two extremes. One extreme is what we see in our text: to be so preoccupied with ourselves and spiritual lives that we despise or neglect the plight of those around us. The other extreme is to be so concerned about social justice that we neglect true worship and nurture in the Word of God. God’s prayer—his desire—is for us to be a part of the outpouring of his goodness. He wants us to channel the flood of his grace and mercy he pours out to the world. He wants to saturate the whole earth with his forgiveness, life, and salvation. Peter says in his epistle that “The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance” (2 Pet 3:9).  We don’t long for judgment. We long for forgiveness, life, and salvation for the whole world. “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream!”

God wants us to experience the flood of baptismal waters that wash away the filth and the guilt of our sins. But he also wants those baptismal waters to break out into the world beyond our walls. As the prophet Habakkuk writes (2:14): “the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.” He wants his love, grace, and mercy to have a global impact. “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream!”

“Blessed are the meek” Matthew 5:5

Matthew 5:1-12

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Pastor Tom Johnson, November 1, 2020

Blessed are the meek. The meek are the lowly, the powerless, the humble, the unassuming, the gentle. These words expose and challenge the way of the world—especially during this election season. Politicians insult one another, call each other names, and do and say whatever they can to elevate themselves and persuade you to vote for them. This is not the way of the meek, the lowly, the humble, and the gentle. Sadly, they are a reflection of us. Our friendships are strained. There’s a trail of casualties in our social media. Family dread to gather around the Thanksgiving table not just because of the viral pandemic but the epidemic of pride, partisanship, and self-righteousness. We need a lot more meekness in this world. 

Meekness is wisdom. Meekness acknowledges that we are mere mortals—not gods. Meekness humbly recognizes that God is ultimately in control. In the midst of the chaos and confusion of this world, meekness is awareness of where true power resides—in God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Meekness is not weakness. It is courage. It takes strong character—strengthened by God’s Spirit and his Word—to admit that we have fallen short of the glory of God. We have all sinned. We are not the best, the greatest, the most, the first. It is not those with the right pedigree, the entitled, but the meek who will inherit the earth. Meekness is not weakness. It wisely and courageously admits our own weakness, flaws, and—most importantly—our powerlessness in and of ourselves. The meek know we need a savior—someone to deliver us from evil, sin, and even ourselves. Meekness is not weakness. It acknowledges that God loves all people—every tribe, nation, tongue, and people. It is not all about me. Meekness puts God first, others second, and ourselves third. Meekness and empathy go hand in hand.

Hundreds of years before Jesus’ earthly ministry, the philosopher Aristotle said of meekness. “The meek are strong. They stand firmly balanced between apathy and excessive anger—between cowardice and recklessness.”

Jesus says the meek are the faithful—the faith-filled. Their confidence and trust is not in self or even in the “better angels” of our humanity. Their faith is in God almighty creator of heaven and earth. 

We should go to the polling station or send in our ballots in meekness. God has got this—even if our candidate loses. Our inheritance will not be jeopardized by anyone or anything. Nothing and no one can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus. Meekness realizes that our prayers accomplish more than our ballots. Please vote! But don’t forget to pray! Scripture commanded those oppressed by the Roman government to pray for the Roman emperor and again for monarchs and all those in authority (1 Tim 2:2). Proverb 21:1 says, “The king’s heart is a stream of water in the hand of the Lord; he turns it wherever he will.” God alone can change the hearts of our leaders to better serve him and to better serve those to whom they are called.

Meekness open us up to come to Jesus in our weariness, weakness, and worries. “Come to me,” he says, “all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle—meek (same word!)—and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Jesus calls himself meek and humble. The eternal Son of God left his heavenly throne to take on our humanity. The Lord of glory was born as a lowly child in a manger—meek and mild. 

Jesus did not rise to the top through insults, violence, and fear-mongering. He humbled himself. He was meek. He empathized with the lowly, healed the sick, and brought comfort to the anxious. He courageously took upon himself the burden of sin, evil, and death even though he did not deserve it. He wisely knew that only he can raise us up and deliver us from evil. His meekness is not weakness. As the saints in heaven sing: “Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever.” To him be all glory alone. He is the best, the greatest, the first, the last, the Alpha, the Omega—King of kings and Lord of lords. And he is all those things for us—to raise us up—to bless us. “Blessed are the meek for they will inherit the earth.” Our inheritance is now. In Christ’s Kingdom we have all the benefits as daughters and sons of God. God’s kingdom is filled with the meek. They know they were sinners made saints—washed in the blood of Lamb. All credit goes to our Savior in eternal worship.

When Jesus returns in all his glory—or we precede him in our deaths—we enter a new reality. He makes all things new. He does not come to destroy the earth but renew it, recreate it, and make it perfect.  And he does not do so to hoard it for himself but to bless us with it—so that we inherit all the goodness and beauty of creation. It is a spiritual inheritance of forgiveness and eternal life. And it is also true justice and peace and a remaking of this world into the way things are meant to be. And so we raise up our voices for his glory and for the benefit of all creation. We lift him up in our voices, hearts, and lives because he first raised us up to enjoy him forever.

“no other god” (Isaiah 45:1-7; Psalm 96:1-9; Matthew 22:15-22)

Isaiah 45:1-7
Psalm 96:1-9
Matthew 22:15-22

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Pastor Tom Johnson, October 18, 2020

Today all our Scripture texts highlight the uniqueness of the one, holy, true and living God. God says in Isaiah, “I am YHWH, the Lord—I am that I am—and there is no other; besides me there is no god. ...From the rising of the sun to its setting place, there is no one besides, me; I am that I am—and there is no other.” Psalm 96 says that “the Lord is great and worthy of praise, to be feared—held in reverential awe—above all gods.” Paul tells the Thessalonians that by their faith in Christ they have “turned to God from idols to serve a living and true God.” And in our Gospel, Jesus with one phrase exposes the false religion of Imperial Rome.

There is no question that we live in a growing pluralistic society. By pluralistic, we mean that there is a growing cultural and political climate that recognizes and affirms a diversity of religious beliefs, religions, and gods. By some estimates, there are more than 4,300 different religions in the world. There are the great religions—Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism. Each of those are broken up into many different sects and variations. On top of those are the countless tribal religions and regional differences. In a pluralistic society, the only wrong belief is to claim that we have the right belief. In this context, it is unacceptable and intolerable arrogance to say that our God is the one and only—the true and living God—and that there is no other. And to a large extent I understand this repulsion to those who claim they alone have the truth. As we see in our Scriptures today, we do not claim to have the truth alone; the Truth claims to have us alone.

God’s Word in Isaiah tears down the wall of our pride. God affirms his own uniqueness while at the same time he expands our understanding of his work and his love for all people. He is one of a kind. And he is for all. God works through Cyrus, the Persian emperor—who himself claimed to be a god. He works through him even though he is completely oblivious and does not yet know the true and living God but only false gods.  He does this, our Scripture says, so that all may come to know God—from the rising of the sun to its setting. We know the rest of the story of king Cyrus from 2 Chronicles and Ezra. He comes to know God and helps God’s people rebuild their city and the Temple. 

Psalm 96 calls us to sing and proclaim God’s uniqueness and reign over heaven and earth “among all nations and peoples.” Paul reminds the Thessalonians that they did not come to know Christ because they were smarter or better but because God chose them so that people “in every place” may also come to know him.

Not surprisingly, Jesus most masterfully reveals this truth. And he does it by a the most common coin of his day called a denarius. It was used for over 250 years by the Roman Empire. They were so common two thousand years ago we are still finding them. I learned that you can even purchase them online! When Jesus asked whose likeness and what the inscription was, it was of Caesar Augustus Tiberius, son of the divine Augustus.” The idea was that his father reached the status of a god in his death and that he is a son of a god.  When Jesus was asked if it was lawful to pay a tribute or tax to him, they were trying to entrap him into either false religion or treason. Jesus’ response is genius. The emperor made those coins—give them back to him if you need to. But know that all wealth, all people, all things, and heaven and earth belong to God. It is God’s idea to reach out to us and reveal his uniqueness and universal love for us in Jesus Christ.  And it is still his idea to reach out to the whole world to reveal himself to a people who have not yet come to know him. 

And so we are called—not to be the frozen chosen, judgmental, nor arrogant. Nor are we to be afraid or ashamed to tell the whole world how holy, unique, good, and loving our God is and how beautifully and fully he is revealed to us in Jesus Christ. God is at work universally. He reaches out through us and in spite of us even if we are not even aware of him or have not yet come to know him. 

I cannot think of a more winsome way of sharing our faith with others—humbly acknowledging that we all have trusted in false gods—whether they people people, things, or false religion. And then to tell them of the true and living God who is for all, loves all, and has given his Son, Jesus Christ to all. Our focus should not be to attack false gods and tear down other beliefs. Our focus should rather be on the Truth and to welcome others to celebrate the holy, uniqueness and mystery of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit for all.

God lifts up his Eternal Son who was born into our likeness—whose inscription says that he alone is true and living God and that we are forgiven. It is not inscribed on silver or gold but in blood—not on a metal coin but on the wooden beams of the Cross of Christ.  And there he also proclaims an end to the reign of false gods, religion, evil, sin, and death itself. The One who created us is the same One who loves us all.

Holy God, we praise Thy name;

Lord of all, we bow before Thee.

All on earth Thy scepter claim,

All in heav’n above adore Thee.

Infinite Thy vast domain,

Everlasting is Thy reign.

Holy Father, holy Son,

Holy Spirit, three we name Thee;

Though in essence only one,

Undivided God we claim Thee

And, adoring, bend the knee

While we own the mystery.

                                     (“Holy God, We Praise Thy Name” LSB 940, vv. 1,5)

“Worry” (Philippians 4:1-9)

Philippians 4:1-9

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Pastor Tom Johnson, October 11, 2020

Our Scripture today says, “Do not worry about anything.” Jesus says in his sermon on the mount, “Do not worry about your life” (Matt 6:25). This is a command most of us wish we could easily obey: not to worry—not to be anxious. What is worry? Worry is when our minds and bodies are in a chronic threat response. We play and replay future, possible, negative scenarios over and over again. It is a form of fear—fear of what may or may not happen. It is also wounds from the past that have not healed that continue to plague us. Or it’s a current struggle that has not yet resolved favorably. And so, we live in state of defensiveness and fear. Worry manifests itself in fight, flight, or freeze. 

There are so many things to worry about these days—a global pandemic, loss of health, lives, and jobs. There is turmoil in politics and in our neighborhoods. We can add all of our unique and personal struggles on top of these common ones. But Paul says, “Do not worry about anything.” Some would say worry is a sin. But I think we should be careful. How helpful is it for us to add guilt to worry? Or worry about worrying?  I believe it is helpful to not always look at sin merely as what we do or fail to do and displeases God. Sin also works to hold us under its power. It is truth to say, “I worry.” But it is also truth to say, “I struggle with anxiety.” 

Worry or anxiety is the most common mental health issue in the United States. I opened my pastoral companion book yesterday to look at a list of common struggles people have, Scriptures that address it, and suggested prayers. Not surprisingly, anxiety is at the top of the list. And, no, it is not in alphabetical order. Worry takes our eyes off of the Lord who knows the number of our days and hairs on our heads. Anxiety keeps us from trusting in Jesus who says he will never leave us as orphans or forsake us. Unopposed, worry will erode our faith. Worry causes us to be preoccupied about ourselves. Worry prevents us from fulfilling God’s greatest command which is to love him with all of heart, mind, soul, and strength and to love one another as Christ loved us. Worry steals our joy. Worry can so cloud our minds that we do not recognize all the blessings around us. Proverbs 12:25 says, “Anxiety weighs down the human heart, but a good word cheers it up.” 

Yes, our text tells us to stop worrying. But the Word is also here to cheer us up. 

“Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” 

In Christ we have the remedies for worry. We have the antidotes for anxiety. Paul begins by telling us to not worry about anything but to pray about everything. Maybe you have noticed the church office wall behind Anna’s desk says, “Pray about everything; worry about nothing.” 

Prayer is taking our anxiety and worry and surrendering it up to God. 1 Peter 5:7 says, “Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you.” It’s a beautiful and powerful thing: God not only knows and expects that we have anxiety; he wants us to unload it all upon him. Because he does not want us to be weighed down by it. Paul tells us to pray with thanksgiving. This is another antidote to worry: gratitude. When we recognize, name, and thank God for his blessings, our gratitude will transform our attitude. We will become more optimistic and less worrisome. We will be able to—by God’s strength and Spirit—to fulfill our Scripture that says, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice!” Joy will flood our lives because thanksgiving has opened our eyes, ears, and our hearts. Joy is another sure antidote for anxiety—as is the peace that surpasses all understanding. It is not a peace as the world gives but only as Christ gives. It is a contentment and absence of fear that transcends life’s difficulties and human comprehension. It is a peace that rescues our imaginations from our fears. It’s a peace that calms us by God’s amazing grace.  All this strengthens our faith when we actually experience this peace—when we discover that God has actually given us the tools we need to escape the clutches of anxiety and we truly know his peace that actually quiets and calms our hearts, minds, and spirits. If that is not enough, Paul says in our Scripture, 

“Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.”

Jesus went to the mountains, seas, and wilderness to pray. I believe he went to these places to quiet his time with God but also to enjoy the stunning beauty of creation. If the news is making your anxiety worse. Turn off the TV, radio, and don’t look at social media. Instead, take a walk. Pray for our world. Surrender your worry to God. Look around. Go to an art museum. Listen to your favorite music. We not only have supernatural peace at our disposal, we have the common good. We have an infinite supply of beauty in God’s creation all around us. It will also transform our hearts and minds to fill our eyes, ears, noses, hands, mouths, and minds with the delicious goodness and beauty around us.  As Christians we know that we are more than conquerors. We are victorious over sin, evil, and death by Jesus’ death and resurrection. We may have not yet realized our victory yet before Christ’s return. But we do have prayer, thanksgiving, faith, joy, and peace that transcends anything that might hold us captive to worry. As Baptist minister and civil rights leader (Ralph Abernathy) said in the midst of his struggle said, “I don't know what the future may hold, but I know who holds the future.”

“God’s Vineyard” (Matthew 21:33-46; Isaiah 5:1-7; Psalm 80:7-14)

Matthew 21:33-46

Isaiah 5:1-7
Psalm 80:7-14

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Pastor Tom Johnson, October 4, 2020

This morning we have three Scriptures that use the image of a vineyard. In Isaiah, God’s people sing to their Beloved, their husband, the Lord. He chooses a fertile hill, tills, removes stones, and plants it with the best vines to produce the best grapes. He builds a watchtower to protect it. He does this to produce the best wine. But instead of the fruit of justice, there is bloodshed; instead of righteousness, there is an outcry for it. God’s purpose of planting and nurturing this vineyard was to produce a bounty of goodness and true justice. Instead, God’s people produce the bitter fruit of the wild—violence, injustice, and abuse of power.

In Psalm 80, the Bride sings again to her husband, the Lord. She sings of her salvation from slavery in Egypt. Her husband, the Lord, brought her out of the house of bondage as a vine and planted her in the Promised Land flowing with milk and honey. It is a prayer that God would tend and preserve his vine.

In our reading from Matthew, Jesus tells a parable of a vineyard. The language echos the words from Isaiah. And just like the both of the other Scriptures, God is the Landowner who has the idea in the first place to plant a vineyard. He does all the prep work to grow and press grapes, refine, and age wine. He just needs workers to protect and nurture the vineyard. He even pays them to be stewards of his property. He only expects the fruit at harvest time. That is a reasonable expectation. It is not for himself alone to enjoy. It is to bring the world the fruit of righteousness, justice, and reconciliation. 

But the tenants are overcome with violence, greed, and power. They only care about their own prosperity, comfort, and pleasure. And they are willing for others to pay the ultimate price to preserve what they see as their privilege. They have forgotten that they are merely stewards of the vineyard—not lords of it. The Landowner sends a group to collect what is his to begin with—what he paid others to care for and nurture. The tenants kill those who come to collect the fine wine for the master. They kill a larger group than the first. Finally, the Landowner sends his son. He presumes that they will receive him with respect. But they throw the son out of the vineyard and kill him. God the Father is the Landowner. Jesus is the Son who is sent by the Father who is ultimately killed.

The chief priests and Pharisees realize that they are the wicked tenants in this story. Their desire to arrest Jesus betrays the fact that they are more concerned about preserving their own power than producing true justice and righteousness. The religious leaders are the bad guys in this story. Jesus’ parable even draws out their greed, lust for power, and violence that is in their hearts. It foreshadows the day when they will cry out, “Crucify, crucify him.” It takes great courage to see ourselves as the bad guys in this parable and humbly recognize that, confess it, and change our ways. We remember that we are all stewards of God’s gifts. We have also failed. We are prone to forget all the work God did to prepare what we enjoy and are blessed with. We have received so many gifts and are so very privileged because of those who have come before us.

We, too, can be deceived by the lie that we are entitled or that we deserve the good things God has placed in our lives. We, too, can be consumed by the rat race to accumulate wealth and by greed. We, too, can disregard the lives and livelihoods of those around us especially if it secures our comfort and possessions. When let others pay the price for our gain, we break God’s command not to steal. When we let others suffer for it, we break God’s command not to murder.

What the Landowner—what our Creator—what our Heavenly Father wants is for us to participate in blessing the world through the fruit of his vineyard. He planted it. He put a hedge of protection around it. He dug a wine press. He built a watchtower. He sent the prophets to ask for his fruit time and time again. It brings him great joy to bless his creation with good fruit. It should be our joy to be able to participate in bringing his fine, well-aged wine to the world. He has even paid us—gifted us—to be his stewards of the Kingdom of God (1 Cor 4:1) and his grace in the Gospel (Eph 3:2). We get to participate in God’s miracle of growing his Kingdom. 

It is not too much for God to ask for the fruit of justice and righteousness. God has done all this work so that both our character and our actions would be a blessing to him and those around us. We are the Church, the Body of Christ. We are his Vineyard. Where else in this world of wild, greedy, prideful, and violent grapes will good fruit come from? We as church leaders and we as the whole people of God are to be that fruit. We are to be humble, grateful, content, responsible, selfless, generous, empathetic, respectful, life-preserving, and to love the world as do the Father and the Son. The Scripture says what God expects from us: to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God” (Micah 6:8).

Don’t miss the final twist of Jesus’ parable of the vineyard. The Landowner sends his Son. Together, in our fallen humanity, we did not receive him. We threw him out to be crucified. And yet, he still blesses us and gifts us. With his life, the Son purchases our forgiveness and eternal life. He makes it possible for us to bear fruit—not because we have earned or deserve his generous love but because we already have it. We do it for the Creator, Landowner, our heavenly Father—to bless this world and, in the end, give him the glory.

5 For us by wickedness betrayed,
For us, in crown of thorns arrayed,
He bore the shameful cross and death;
For us He gave His dying breath.

6 For us He rose from death again;
For us He went on high to reign;
For us He sent His Spirit here
To guide, to strengthen, and to cheer.

7 All glory to our Lord and God
For love so deep, so high, so broad;
The Trinity whom we adore
Forever and forevermore.

          (“Oh Love, How Deep,” LBW 544, vv. 5-7) 

“God’s Prevailing Mercy” (Jonah 3:10-4:11)

Jonah 3:10-4:11

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Pastor Tom Johnson, September 20, 2020

Jonah and the Whale (1621) by Pieter Lastman

The account of Jonah, swallowed by a great fish, has been a favorite for thousands of years among adults and children. Jesus himself used the story of Jonah several times to help us better understand his mission to extend God’s love. I encourage you all to read the book of Jonah in one sitting. It takes about 10 minutes. Jonah shows great courage and humor in this self-deprecating satire of a prophet who fails to do what God calls him to do.

God calls Jonah to go preach to the Ninevites. But the Ninevites have their own false religion. They are cruel to neighboring nations. Jonah’s people are victims of their violence. Jonah knows God is “good and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.” Jonah quotes God’s words when he calls Moses to be his prophet. Jonah will not go to Nineveh. He goes in the opposite direction—to Tarshish, in modern day Spain. God causes a storm that almost sinks the ship Jonah and it’s pagan crew are on. They pray to their gods while Jonah sleeps in ignorance. When Jonah realizes that they are all going to die, he volunteers to be thrown overboard—willing to die so that Nineveh would not hear God’s word. Think of the greater Prophet to come, Jesus, who is willing to die so that the whole world can receive forgiveness and eternal life.

But a great fish, out of obedience to its Creator swallows Jonah whole. The great fish’s obedience puts Jonah’s disobedience to shame. It’s only while the stomach acid and lack of oxygen eat away at Jonah that he has a partial change of heart. At the command of God, the fish vomits Jonah up in the correct direction toward Nineveh. Jonah walks around the city preaching his doom and gloom: “In forty days God will turn you all to ash,” he says. His sermon is not faithful to God’s word or character. The only thing Jonah preaches is destruction. There is no hope for mercy in his message. Jonah preaches a fiery, vengeful, and angry God who is about to crush them.

But then the unexpected happens. Despite the disobedient prophet and his poor homiletical skills, Nineveh repents. They cover themselves with ash. Even the animals are covered in sackcloth and ash. Even the animals show repentance. Both humans and non-humans fast and pray that God would relent this disaster. “Who knows?” they asked. “the Prophet Jonah only preached destruction, but maybe God will be merciful.” And so all the Ninevite creatures repent.

After Jonah is done preaching doom and gloom, he finds a place he can sit to watch God rain fire and brimstone on Nineveh like he is at a movie theatre. He finds a bush to shade himself under. He is really happy about the shade he finds. Jonah loves the shade-tree—because of the personal comfort it brings. But nothing happens to the Nineveh. Instead, God commands a worm to destroy the shade tree. Jonah is “angry enough to die.” He is willing to let anger consume his life. Again, we should think of the greater prophet to come, Jesus, who is “compassionate enough to die”—willing to let his love for the world consume his life.

It’s only at the very end of the story of Jonah that the real point of the story comes out loud and clear: God loves his whole creation. “Is it right for you to be angry about the bush?” God asks. “Should I not be concerned about Nineveh,” God asks, “that great city, in which there are more than a hundred thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also many animals?” This last verse tell us a lot about God’s love for the world. First of all, God loves great cities. No skyscraper rises out of reach of God’s love. No urban sprawl escapes his compassion.

No population is too numerous for God not to hear each of their individual thoughts and prayers. No corruption and brokenness is beyond God’s mercy and care. Everything will be outmatched by the greatness of God’s love. As James says in the New Testament, “Mercy triumphs over judgment.” God loves the little children—he cares for young humans that grow up in a broken culture and dysfunctional relationships—too young to know their left from their right—impressionable minds that God wants to impress with his love, forgiveness, and eternal life through his son, Jesus Christ. And finally, God cares about the many animals in Nineveh. His love is not bound to humans. His love extends from the great fish in the depths of the oceans to the cattle on every hill.

The story of Jonah is the story of how great God’s mercy really is and the lengths he will go to extend that mercy. He not only works in spite of the prophet, through the prophet, but in the heart of the prophet himself. God redirects the prophet to fulfill his call but also to grow in his understanding of just how deep and wide compassion is for humans, plants, and animals—every created thing. His mercy prevails over our ignorance, sin, evil, and death. 

God loves cities great and small. He loves people with big egos and stubborn minds; he loves the little children. He loves animals and plants of the wild and those we have domesticated. And so should we. God’s compassion will always exceed our judgmental attitudes. His mercy will always prevail over our ignorance. But, as God’s people, he wants our love, compassion, and mercy for others to grow and catch up with his. God’s mercy and steadfast love will even prevail over our hearts.