"Enfleshed Word"

John 1.1-14

Pastor Tom Johnson, December 25, 2011

 

John’s Gospel begins by reminding us that the birth of Jesus is not the beginning of the story of the Son of God. It is a continuation of the story. Jesus’ birth is the fulfillment of the promised Messiah and Son of God. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him and without him not one thing came into being.”

If scientists are right about the beginning of the universe, then John is telling us that Jesus—the eternal Word—is the one who lit the fuse to ignite the Big Bang. The Word himself not only rode the storm of matter spreading throughout the universe but superintended the very fabric of the cosmos itself. He is the one who wove the fabric of life together from the bottom up. “All things came into being through him and without him not one thing came into being.” He has no beginning. He lives in reality outside time, space, and matter. He stands outside of creation. He is the Author of creation.

Like the Psalmist whose intelligence can only grasp so much, we cry, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it” (Ps 139:6). The living and eternal Word, uncreated, all powerful, all knowing, ever present who created all that we know and can observe—the Light who shines in the darkness but the darkness cannot overcome. This Word—this remarkable Word—“became flesh and lived among us.” Two miraculous births tied together—two births tethered together in history—the birth of the universe and the birth of a human child who is also the eternal Word. This deep mystery of the incarnation pushes the limits of human cognition—that the Word was made flesh. It surpasses our understanding. But as it does so, it is meant to baptize us in that peace that also passes understanding.

Such a vision of Jesus delivers us from going through the motions of Christmas. It legitimizes the experience of many who painfully live through the holidays under a cloud of darkness—which John acknowledges about this troubled world. He describes the inhabitants of this world as those in darkness, incomplete, in the shadows, unenlightened, powerless, and alone. Don’t get me wrong, I love granny’s pies, tinsel on trees, and cheerful Christmas songs. But we must not think of the Word made flesh as an abstraction or an event of the distant past. He is the Word made flesh. That Word that dwells in the Body of Jesus and dwelled among us on earth two thousand years ago is the same Word whose light still shines through the darkness. He is the same Word who is continually given to the world. John does not say the light “shined” but says “the Light shines in the darkness.” This is “the true light which enlightens everyone.” And through this Word, God still gives us power and adoption as children of God—not born of blood, the will of the flesh, or the will of humans, but of God. This text is about the birth of the universe, the birth of the eternal Son of God, and the new birth we have through that same Word.

A story I recently heard reminds me of the beauty of this truth. It’s the story of Louis Zamperini in the book Unbroken. The movie based on his story is already in production and will be released in theatres in about a year. It’s the story of a troublemaker who becomes a world-class athlete. He goes to war and, against all odds, survives bombing missions, a plane wreck, months stranded and starving on a life raft, shark attacks, imprisonment, torture, and the ravages of alcoholism.

For the better part of his life, Jesus was simply an abstraction to Louis—a name to curse in times of trouble—the Bible, a dust-covered book on the shelf. He spent years trapped in the bondage anger, bitterness and vengeance, suffering from recurring nightmares of his torturers, and unable to be free himself from addiction.

Just at the point you think that Louis’ marriage, body and spirit will all be broken, his wife invites him to hear the preaching of Billy Graham at a Los Angeles crusade. It was while he was walking out of the meeting in a rage and disgust of what he heard that he experiences that Word made flesh.

Louis Zamperini no longer merely hears about the Word made flesh, he experiences the Word made flesh. The transformation of his life is no less dramatic than before. It’s in his own powerlessness that he discovers the power of the Word who lives, died, and rose again. It is the greatest miracle of his life.

“And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.” This same Word lives and fills our lives today. The great miracle of Christmas is ours in Christ.

“Come, Thou long-expected Jesus. Born to set Thy people free; From our fears and sins release us; Let us find our rest in Thee. Israel’s strength and consolation, Hope of all the earth Thou art, Dear desire of ev’ry nation, Joy of ev’ry longing heart” (LSB 338 v 1).

“They laid him in a manger”

Luke 2.1-7

Pastor Tom Johnson, December 24, 2011

 

Consumerism is a central part of the Christmas story. Yes, that is what I said. One of the main messages of Christmas is about you and me as consumers. I’m not talking about what begins on “Black Friday” the day after Thanksgiving...people pushing, shoving, and spraying pepper spray at each other so they can be the first to grab that holiday gift…or about the rise in consumer confidence and a faster recovering economy. I’m talking about the consumerism that is depicted and revealing when Joseph and Mary lay their baby in a manger—a feeding trough for farm animals. Christmas is about the greatest treasure in the world. Christmas is about being a consumer and recipient of that treasure.

In our Lessons and Carols service, we heard the story of those first consumers—Adam and Eve—and how they rushed the aisles of Eden to shoplift the forbidden fruit. Their consumerism resulted in greater poverty and brokenness. The promise of spiritual recovery was bound up in the promise of the Messiah—the one who would reverse the downturn of humanity—not just for one nation and tribe—but for all nations, tribes, tongues, and peoples. Just look at our nativity scene in front of church. It beautifully points us to the truth of this message. Joseph holds a lamp and Mary is next to her newborn—the sun, the moon, and the stars bow down to the eternal Son of God. In many Nativity scenes, angels also bow down before Him—and they announce his greatness—and they invite us to join our voices to their songs of praise—to the King of Heaven—the God who is now with us.

The One who created heaven and earth—is worshiped by heaven and now on earth—even as a baby in the manger. They know that Jesus was not just Human but God and Man. The manger scene has the three Magi. We are reminded that wise men seek Jesus, the rich owe their riches to Jesus, and kings worship the King of kings. And these foreign Magi remind us that Christ came for all peoples and nations. The kings are consumers who bring their offerings of thanksgiving. The nativity scene has the shepherds reminding us that our Lord did not despise the common man. He came for the rich and the poor—for those who serve as kings in palaces and for those who serve sheep in the fields. The manger scene has a donkey, a camel, a cow, and a lamb. Unclean animals and clean animals. Unclean animals in the Old Testament often represent different foreign nations. And these unclean animals appear to want to eat out of the manger where the Christ Child lay. They are all consumers from humans to non-humans. The donkey and the horse represent non-Jews—the Gentiles. They represent all the nations outside of the Nation of Israel—the whole world coming to their Savior—poor and hungry consumers gathered around the Christ child. All are welcome to receive the true Bread of Heaven.

Such a rich diversity of creatures gathered around the newborn king sends us a powerful message—and an almost humorous one at that—that if the poor, the rich, the proud, the humble, the ceremonially clean animals, and the ceremonially unclean animals are welcome, so are we—there is room around the Christ Child even for the lonely and the oppressed, the weak and the struggling. If it was not beneath God to send his Son to be born in the heart of a stable, it will not be beneath God to send his Son to be born into the lives of people like you and me.

And so we see that the feeding trough is not just the result of no vacancies at the local inn. But He was placed there because he is the Bread of Life—the Manna that has come down from heaven—the food we need to strengthen and preserve us in this world—a free gift for poor and starving consumers. The lamb in the manger scene reminds us of Jesus’ purpose—the eternal Son of God became human in the most unlikely places—because he is the sacrificial Lamb for the whole world. He is the Lamb of God whose blood on the cross takes away the sin of the world—who has mercy on us—who grants us peace. God born below so that we would be born from above. God born as a human child so that we would become the children of God. Born for death so that we would be born unto eternal life. And there he lays in a feeding trough for you and me—an open invitation for all to believe—to receive him by faith—to trust in Him as our Redeemer—to be consumers of a life-transforming Gospel.

“Garments of Salvation”

Isaiah 61.8-11

Pastor Tom Johnson, December 11, 2011

 

Our first grandparents, Adam and Eve, were created unclothed. In the image of God…male and female he created them. God said it was very good. Like all the other creatures on earth, we were only dressed in our own skin. We did not need clothing to protect us from the elements. We did not need to make a fashion statement or prove that we could afford designer clothing. We did not need a uniform to define our purpose. We were just human. And that is beautiful—fearfully and wonderfully made. Adam and Eve fell into sin. Their disobedience results in profound guilt and shame—so much so that they feel physically exposed and vulnerable—even ashamed of their own bodies. Adam and Eve invent clothing. They choose the leaves of fig trees for covering. And so they run and hide in nothing more than their organic skivvies. But God still sees them completely—even under their covering and hiding place.

Apparently, God is disappointed with both their disobedience and their fig leaf undergarments. But even more importantly, out of compassion, love, and mercy, the first sacrifice is made in human history. God makes garments of animal skin for Adam and Eve and clothes them. Their shame is covered. Their sins are forgiven. They are loved and clothed by God. They enter the rest of their lives with the promise of a future Son. This Son will one day have his heel struck but will crush the serpents head with a fatal blow.

And since then, we use clothing for a number of reasons. We cover ourselves from the elements. Perhaps we communicate something about our mood, our personalities, our social status, or identify ourselves with a particular vocation such as a police officer, nurse, or postal worker. But nothing can cover the spiritual nakedness that we feel deep within—that sense of being exposed, vulnerable, and a helpless target. Nothing can cover the shame and guilt of sin—not food, drink, drug, activity, fame, or clothing can cover us. Only the righteousness of Christ can cover us. Only Jesus can adorn us with true beauty. This is the joy and promise that the prophet Isaiah wants to fill our lives with today. Isaiah sings a new song for us to sing:

“I will greatly rejoice in the Lord, my whole being shall exult in my God; for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation, he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.”

God is still in the clothier business. He still dresses us. As children of God, we will never grow up. We are never able to dress ourselves. Jesus says, “unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Theologians call this the “alien righteousness” of God. That is, that we do not generate a righteousness of our own. We do not clothe ourselves spiritually. But it is an “alien” work—a work outside of ourselves—an out-of-the-world Divine act—where God clothes us.

From heaven to earth, Jesus came. He came to heal and preach the good news. He came to dress this world with his goodness. He died to cover our guilt and our shame. He rose again to dress us up in the power and glory of the resurrection. Jesus, the great Clothier came to dress us here on earth. And he will come again to dress us for eternity. Isaiah talks about this day like a garden where “righteousness and praise suddenly spring up before all the nations.”

Maybe you have seen those reality TV shows. Someone gets an extreme makeover. They lose weight. They get in shape. They choose a healthier lifestyle. And even though they are not necessarily “model material,” there is the big unveiling of this new person. You see them standing behind the paper screen. You only see their silhouette. The curtain lifts. The new person is revealed. Their loved ones’ jaws drop to the floor. Some gasp. Some scream. Some clap. They celebrate the new person.

So are we, dressed in the garments of salvation—the righteousness of Christ. So will we be on the day of our Lord’s return—dressed in the radiant robes of righteousness. John saw it in his vision in Revelation when he wrote, “I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands.” This, dear friend, is the new you—and the new me—decked out in the handsome and beautiful garments of salvation—the righteousness of Christ. And the day draws near when we will be even more gloriously dressed in robes that shine like the midday sun.

“I will celebrate in the Lord! From head to toe, I will shout his praises! For he has dressed me up in clothes of deliverance. He has covered me with a righteous robe! Like a groom’s boutonniere…like a bride’s wedding day jewelry…so will our new glory be internationally revealed on the day our Lord’s return.”

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

“Humble Thanksgiving”

Deuteronomy 8.7-18

Pastor Tom Johnson, November 24, 2011

 

You’ve heard the story of the original Thanksgiving meal. The pilgrims suffered through famine, illness, and the loss of loved ones. But with the help of their Native American neighbors, God blessed their harvest. And so, they threw a feast in Thanksgiving I think it is fair to say that their Thanksgiving was deeper and more robust because of their previous hunger, suffering, and loss. Their frailty and vulnerability were acutely on their minds. The reality was clear: their needs were met by the mercy and grace of God.

It’s a similar story in our Scripture in Deuternomy. God fed his people in the wilderness with Manna—with miraculous bread of heaven. God kept them on the thin line between starvation and survival through the daily bread they gathered. And it is with this story in mind that our Old Testament Scripture tells them why they went through this hard times: “to humble and to test you, and in the end to do you good.” God used hunger for a greater good—to mold them into humble and faithful people.

Thanksgiving is one of the few national holidays when we Americans reflect on things as a nation and not just as individuals. Our nation, as a whole, has suffered the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression. Underemployment, joblessness, home foreclosures, trade deficits, national debt, politicians in gridlock, and the gap between rich and poor all have grown considerably. We seem powerless to do anything about it—certainly not quickly enough. It is nothing short of amazing that a new conversation has begun in the public forum: rather than asking why God has allowed this to happen, many are beginning to ask why we have allowed this to happen to ourselves. All over the world, economists, educators, politicians, students, and Occupy Wall Street are asking the question. They may differ in their answers. But we all want to know how so much wealth was lost. God wants a voice in this conversation. God reminds his people in our text not to say to yourself, “‘My power and the might of my own hand have gotten me this wealth.’ But [to] remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you power to get wealth." That is to say, it is God who has not only created the world in which we live but God who continues to provide for our daily needs. He is the God who teaches us to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread.” He is the Bread of Heaven.

That is what we are here to do this morning—to answer God’s call to remember him—to remember the Lord God who provides for us body and soul. And he wants us to remember the good with humility. Humility acknowledges our weakness. Humility takes responsibility for our sin. Humility recognizes that we do not deserve and cannot earn God's blessing by our own strength. To be thankful is the inevitable outcome of a truly humble spirit. Humility enables us to see the world as it truly is: broken and unjust but still lavishly loved upon and blessed by our heavenly Father—especially through his Son, Jesus Christ. Thankfulness and humility are the fruit of true and abiding faith in the Gospel—that God so loved the world—poor, starving, and corrupt as it is—that he sent his Son to save us from ourselves, forgive us, and give us eternal life. We may never answer exactly how or why any of us go through times of want, hunger, and need. But our Scripture assures us of at least one reason: “to humble and to test you, and in the end to do you good.”

Few of you probably know that I cleaned windows professionally for more than six years. I did so while I was in seminary. Those were years that Johanna and I did not have a lot of money and resources. Cleaning windows was not glamorous work but God used it to provide for us. It was a blessing although there were times I was not always mindful of that fact. Now looking back, I see God’s hand of provision.

One paticular low point, however, was when I was cleaning windows inside a dentist’s office. A child was misbehaving. And in order to scold, the girl’s mother told her, “If you keep acting that way, you are going to grow up and become a window cleaner!”

God's will is always good and gracious even though at the time we may not see it. The humility and reliance upon God as our Provider is evidence of his miraculous work in our lives and hearts. Our thanksgiving is firmly directed to the Source of everything that is good and a blessing in this world.

For the Israelites, it was a barren wilderness and the Manna, the Bread of Heaven and finally the Promised Land. For our Pilgrim ancestors, it was a harsh winter of hunger, sickness, and loss of life followed by a bountiful harvest and multiethnic fellowship. Today, take a moment and tell your friends and family one story. Remember the Lord by sharing how God brought you through difficult times but, in the end, did you an enormous amount of good.

"Gospel Genesis"

Mark 1.1-8

Pastor Tom Johnson, December 4, 2011

Genesis chapter one says, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” And it may seem reasonable to go through the Bible chronologically, verse by verse, book by book, and that way build one’s view of God piece by piece.
But this, according to our Gospel reading is not the way to know God. And, sadly, it is often the case that people do not believe in god because we are not attracted to the god that we have formed in their minds.

Take, for instance, prominent biologist Richard Dawkins and his description of god. He calls him “arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving control-freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser.” Martin Luther himself struggled with this profoundly. He describes his own view of God: “I did not love, yes, I hated the righteous God who punishes sinners, and secretly, if not blasphemously, certainly murmuring greatly, I was angry with God.” Alister McGrath, a former atheist himself and now Christian scholar will listen politely as people talk about how they cannot believe in this maniacal, vengeful, angry god. He will winsomely reply, “I don’t believe in a god like that either.” Our view of God can be shaped from various things—Parents, grandparents, pastors, Sunday school teachers, or Voters Meetings—in good ways and in bad.

Our Gospel reading today suggests a good way—or rather—the good way of knowing God. Reminiscent of Genesis, it says: “In the beginning the good news Jesus Christ.” This is not just the beginning of Mark’s account. This is the beginning of the good news—embodied in the person and work of Jesus Christ of Nazareth. Advent is about the arrival and coming of the Messiah but also of the One who gives a right and good understanding of and relationship with God. Mark is not alone in giving us the starting point in our understanding and relationship with God in Jesus. John’s Gospel has a beautiful prologue which begins with the words,  “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” And at the end of his prologue, he says, “No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.” The book of Hebrews says, “Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son...He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being.” Jesus himself says in Revelation. “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end” (Rev 22:13). And again in the Gospel of John, “If you knew me, you would know my Father also” (Jn 8:19). “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (Jn 14:9). We know God the Father through God the Son.

When I was nineteen years old, I visited Salvador Dali’s Theatre and Museum. Several of his works of art fill up entire rooms. One room in particular is very memorable to me. As you walk into the room, there is an enormous painting that reaches up to the high ceiling. People line the wall with their heads looking straight up at the work of art. The large canvas has over a hundred smaller paintings that form a grid. It looks like many square paintings lined up in rows and columns. Some of the squares can stand alone as beautiful paintings by themselves. But most of them are blurred and beyond description and explanation—quickly dismissed as “modern art.” In the middle there is a woman looking out at the sea through a window.

I could hear whispering and giggling behind me. Turning around, I saw people lined up behind telescopes and looking at the painting—which was very confusing. Because you would think that the best place to be to get a closer view is to be right up next to the painting where I was, taking a hard, careful, and analytical look. Even though it was counterintuitive, the smiles and the laughter drew me in. The good news I was hearing from those who had looked through the telescopes convinced me that I should try for myself. And what I discovered was that the telescopes did not give a closer view but a more distant view. Have you ever looked through a pair of binoculars or a telescope backwards? That was exactly what they were—backward telescopes. And immediately I could see what I could not see before—the head of Abraham Lincoln. And so it is with Jesus. It is only when we look at the Bible beginning with the good news of Jesus—when we try to understand and know God through a Gospel lens—that we will see the face of God—

—the God who reveals himself and loves us through his Son, Jesus Christ who lived, died, and rose again to give us the assurance of forgiveness and the certainty of eternal life. He is the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the ending of our knowledge of a loving, merciful, and gracious God. He is the God we know and love. He is the Advent of a right and comforting understanding and relationship with God in our lives—a personal Genesis of good and encouraging news—the beginning of a journey with a loving, heavenly Father that will have no end. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

"Faith Is Never Alone"

Matthew 25.31-46

Pastor Allan Buss, November 20, 2011

Consecration Stewards Sunday

 

“Neither Silver nor Gold”

Zephaniah 1.7, 12-18

Pastor Tom Johnson, November 13, 2011

 

As of last week, Silver is worth about $34 per ounce. Gold is worth about $1790 per ounce. They are valuable because they are rare and precious metals. They are shiny and malleable. They have been made into jewelry and art for centuries. Because of their value and light weight, silver and gold have also been used as a currency. Molded into a round piece of metal, it is much easier to enter the marketplace with a coin in your pocket than a cow on a leash.

When you go to market with your silver or gold, you have some convincing to do; the other party must believe that the metal is of the same or greater value than whatever they are selling—silver and gold—for animals, grain, goods, or services; both have placed their faith in the value of these metals. Money can buy anything. So it seems. Our text from Zephaniah says neither silver nor gold will be able to save us from the day of the Lord’s wrath. What our Scripture is trying to do is not threaten us with God’s anger but for us to stop putting our faith in silver and gold.

Think about how vulnerable silver and gold make us. Silver and gold are two elements on the periodic table. As soon as someone no longer believes that silver and gold are worth anything, the metals are useless. And if that is true about rare and shiny metal, how much more true is that of our modern currency? Think about how much faith is required to believe that paper money has value…or checks…or credit cards. They’re just paper and plastic. The prophet wants us to see that our money is hanging on a thin thread of faith in the value of the almighty dollar.

In these few weeks, we have been leading up to our Consecration Stewards Sunday which is next week. The program mandates that I preach about money today. I was pleased when I looked at our appointed Old Testament reading for this morning a few weeks ago, and it said it so simply: “Neither silver or gold can save you.” This morning, God invites us to sit back and reflect on what money is, or rather, what it is not. Money is not a savior. Jesus alone is Savior. Scripture warns that money is the root of all sorts of evil (1 Tim 6:10). Silver and gold cannot deliver us from danger, the prophet tells us. Silver and gold cannot feed empty stomachs. Silver and gold cannot protect from hail and storm. Silver and gold cannot cure an illness. And even more importantly, we cannot buy ourselves out of our sin and brokenness.

Only the Word of God is the Bread of Heaven will satisfy our spiritual hunger. Only the righteousness of Christ will spiritually clothe us. The Lord alone is the strong tower who shelters us from storm and battle. The water, Word, and Holy Spirit of baptism alone make us spiritually clean. Money cannot buy a clear conscience. It cannot right any wrong. It cannot deliver us from temptation. It cannot bring us the assurance of God’s forgiveness and love. We may love money but money does not love us back. We love the Lord because he first loved us. That is not to say that money is useless. We should remember that even money is the Lord’s. He put the silver and gold deep within the earth to be mined. God is the one who provides us with resources, jobs, and money for our daily needs. He answers our prayer, “Give us this day our daily bread.”

And so Scritpure reminds us that money should always be understood and used in the context of God as our Creator and Sustainer. Our money is really our stewardship of God’s resources in the context of his mission to spread his Kingdom and good news on earth. 1 Peter chapter one says, “You know that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your ancestors, not with perishable things like silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without defect or blemish” (1 Peter 1:18,19). The only currency that is of true value and power is the precious blood of Jesus. It is even more rare than silver and gold. It is even more priceless. It is even more powerful.

And here is the most astounding thing: what is costly to Jesus—what cost him his life—is free to us. Jesus died and rose again to answer our prayer, “Forgive us our debts and we forgive our debtors.” He has paid off all our debts and has purchased a place for us in the Kingdom of Heaven not with silver and gold but with his own life. We are now clothed, fed, housed, and royal citizens by the rare and priceless blood of Jesus.

“Do you not know what we will be?”

1 John 3.1-3

Pastor Tom Johnson, November 6, 2011

 

Mother butterfly lays a tiny, round egg on a stem or leaf. She lays the egg near plenty of food. She puts the egg in a good position for survival. But she will never come back to monitor the egg. She will never return in order to show her young what the next step is. Soon a tiny larva will come out of that egg—a little worm-like creature that immediately begins to eat the vegetation around. The tiny larva grows bigger every day. It soon becomes a caterpillar eating and growing. And I wonder: Caterpillar, do you not know where you came from? Do you not know what you will be? Are you eating and growing but unaware that one day you will be re-created—that one day you will spread your wings and soar into the sky?

The Scriptures tells us where we came from. Psalm 139 (v. 13) says that we have been knit together by God in our mother’s womb…and (v. 14) that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. God has not left as to fend for ourselves. He has not abandoned us as orphans. God has not abandoned the caterpillars. He has not abandoned the little sparrows. Jesus said, “Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will” (Matt 10:29). He has not abandoned any of his creatures—especially those creatures who have been created in his image. Our Scripture says, “We are God’s children now.”

The young caterpillar builds a chrysalis—a cocoon around itself. It lays itself down to rest. Its soft tissue breaks down and harder firmer structures are formed. And I wonder: Caterpillar, do you think that you are dying? Do you think that this is the end? Do you not know what you will be? Do you not know that you will be reborn soon—that you will be a new creation?

Scripture asks us if we know? Paul asks us in Romans chapter 6, “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? 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.” Do you, Christian, think that you will be overcome by death? Do you think that death is end? Do you not know what you will be? Do you not know that we already have the life of Christ at work in us?

Paul says in 1 Corinthians 5:17, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” “We are God’s children now.” “And what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.”

The caterpillar’s time in the chrysalis comes to an end. Its transformation is complete. It wakes up from its strange slumber. It spreads its wings and flies off to a bigger world—far above and far away from its beginning. It is a butterfly. And I wonder: Butterfly, did you not know this day would come? Or are you thinking to yourself, “Finally this day has come”? Or are you thinking, “Now isn’t this a surprise! I never knew I had it in me”?

“Beloved, we are God’s children now. And what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.” When Jesus died on the cross and was buried, he knew what he would be. He knew that just as Jonah was in the cocoon of the fish for three days, so Jesus would be in the cocoon of the tomb for three days. Jesus overcame death, the devil, and the grave. And that same power that raised him from the dead lives within us—now. And do you not know what we will be is even more glorious?

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ’s death will be raised from the dead by the glory of the Father so that we too might walk in newness of life? Do you know not know that those with faith in Jesus—those saints who are absent from the body are now present with the Lord? Do you know not know that those skeptics around us may soon break free from their cocoons of doubt and unbelief? Do you not know that the same power that worked in Jesus works in them, you, and me?

“What we will be has not yet appeared.” We will be transformed. We will be renewed. We will be re-created. “When he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.” When we see Jesus face to face, it will the final transformation of our minds, bodies, and spirits. Do you not know that we are his children now? That is who we are. And do you not know that one day we will spread our wings, take flight, and radiate his love and glory forever and ever?

"Truly Free"

John 8.31-36

Pastor Tom Johnson, October 30, 2011

 

Jesus is speaking to the Israelites. He tells them if they continue to believe his teaching, they are on the road toward freedom—a truer and deeper freedom. But their response is that they don't need freedom. They are already free. “We are descendents of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone,” they say. It's hard to understand how the people of God could be so confused—“never been slaves to anyone,” really? Even on the surface this seems hard to believe. “Descendents of Abraham,” you say? Abraham's great grandson, Joseph was sold into slavery by his own brothers. A generation later, all the daughters and sons of Abraham are slaves in Egypt. For four hundred years they suffered the injustice of slavery and bondage.

Every year, the Israelites celebrated Passover—the story of Exodus when God sent Moses down to Egypt to charge Pharaoh to let God's people go. Every Sabbath day, the Jews retold this story that began with slavery and ended in emancipation. And not only is slavery a reality in their history, it is a reality in their current circumstances The people Jesus is speaking with may not be making mud bricks under the Egyptian sun, but they are under the dominion of Rome—forced to serve and pay tribute to a foreign master. So, if they cannot acknowledge slavery in their past or need for freedom from tyranny in the present, imagine how difficult it will be for Jesus to convince them that their slavery runs even deeper than political and physical bondage.

Jesus says, “Everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin.”. This type of slavery—bondage to sin—is not only the true condition of the Israelites, the descendents of Abraham. It is the true condition of every human being. You'll remember that long before Abraham, Adam and Eve had two sons, Cain and Abel. In that very first generation of human beings, we were threatened with bondage to sin—the dominion of evil. God saw it coming even before anyone else. Cain was falling prey to temptation and sin. God warns him, “Sin is crouching at the door and its desire is for you.” “Sin wants to hunt you down, Cain. Like a skillful predator, sin wants to catch you, dominate you, bind you, and eat you for breakfast.”

This very first mention of the word “sin” in the Bible speaks about it as something that wants to overcome us and maliciously take control of our lives. Sadly, Cain did not listen to God’s warning. And like a slave obedient to his own broken condition, Cain murders his brother Abel. “Very truly,” Jesus says, “everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin.” Not only are we perpetrators of evil when we sin, we are also victims as well. It certainly does not mean that we can wash our hands in innocence when we sin, but that we should understand that we have a deeper problem in our lives beyond just the outward act of sin.

It’s not an easy or comfortable thing—looking into the mirror of Jesus’ words and seeing just how vulnerable we are to sin. It takes a lot of courage to acknowledge that we are prone to wander and be overcome by the power of sin. It takes courage, but ultimately it is God himself who helps us break free. It is from this understanding of the depth of the fallen, human condition that Jesus is trying to speak. Jesus is not trying to drive us into further guilt and despair; he trying to help us see how deep and wide our need for grace is.

Jesus is speaking out of compassion for a people who need liberation—people who seem unable to recognize their own bondage and servitude to sin's tyranny in their lives. And here is the encouraging thing about facing our darker sides: once we understand how deep and wide sin can penetrate our lives, we will also be prepared to see how deep and wide our salvation is in Jesus Christ.

This is the great rediscovery of the Gospel that we celebrate today—the clarity and simplicity of the good news of Jesus Christ. If we are not clear on sin, we will not be clear on forgiveness, grace, and salvation. The bad news is that we are captive to sin and we cannot free ourselves. The good news is that we believe and trust in someone who is greater. And that someone is Jesus who died and rose again to defeat all our enemies and even sin itself.

It is only by the great Liberator and Savior Jesus—by grace through faith alone that we can live the God-pleasing lives he calls us to live. And along with this freedom from sin, we have the assurance of forgiveness and certainty of eternal life. “If you continue in my word,” Jesus says, “you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.” Today, Jesus promises to hold sin's power and dominion at bay by the power of his Word in the Scriptures. And the day is coming when he eliminate it once and for all.

          With might of ours can naught be done,
          Soon were our loss effected;
          But for us fights the valiant One,
          Whom God Himself elected.
          Ask ye, Who is this?
          Jesus Christ it is,
          Of Sabaoth Lord,
          And there’s none other God;
          He holds the field forever.

“The Greatest Commandment”

Matthew 22.34-40

Pastor Tom Johnson, October 23, 2011

Everybody was trying to stump Jesus. Like a tag-team wrestlers, the Sadducees fail to take Jesus down. They exit the ring, slap the hand of their unlikely partner, the Pharisees, and they enter ready to finally pin Jesus with a trick question: “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” Maybe they thought Jesus would choose one commandment over another. And when Jesus did, they would accuse him of neglecting the rest of the commandments. Or maybe they were legitimately interested in knowing how Jesus would sum up the the meaning of the Bible. What is the primary message of the Hebrew Scriptures? What is the core of the faith?

I believe that Jesus thinks this is an important question. If he didn’t think so, he would do what he normally does with ridiculous questions—he asks a better question or turns the tables on his opponents. But here Jesus answers the question. What is the greatest commandment? What is God most concerned with in the lives of human beings? What is our highest purpose? Or to be really philosophical: “Why are we human beings on this third planet from the sun in the Milky Way Galaxy? Why are we here?”

For many, this is a troubling question. There are few things more frightening than the thought that you and I are nothing more than improbable creatures in a vast, cold, and impersonal universe—simply here by accident without a purpose. To add to this disturbing thought, is the reality that we are incurably social beings—filled with an unsatiable need to relate to others. We need relationships. We ask why are we here because of our human need for meaning and purpose.

Jesus’ answer not only gives us the greatest commandment but also the meaning and purpose we long for as human beings. Jesus does not just satisfy the Pharisees’ intellectual curiosity. He gives a vision of what our lives are all about. “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”

Jesus gives the greatest commandment: to love God with our whole being. But there is a second commandment that must follow, because it flows from the first: to love one another. Jesus is quoting two Old Testament verses—one from the book of Deuteronomy and the other from Leviticus (Deut 6:5; Lev 19:180). To love is the greatest calling we have—to love God with our whole being and then let that love flow to those around us. Our greatest call is to enter into a loving relationship with God and those around us. The greatest commandment is not for us to do something for God; it is to respond to what God has already done for us.

We should remember that the very first sentence on the tablets of stone that had the ten commandments is what is sometimes called the preface to the Ten Commandments, which says: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.” In other words, God does not give specific commandments or expectations for behavior until after he has first established his love for us. “I am the Lord your God! I took the initiative to free you as a people. I am the one who made you my own—adopted you as my daughters and sons. I have loved you with a tremendous love first. It is unconditional love. But the relationship is incomplete until you love me back.”

To love God begins by believing that he has adopted us and already made us his own—not by bringing us out of the land of Egypt and physical slavery—but out of our sin and brokenness through the death and resurrection of his Son, Jesus Christ. We begin to love God when he not only gives us his Son but also the faith to believe—to believe that we have forgiveness and eternal life in him. Our love is in response to God’s love. Our love flows from him. We love God when we trust in him to take us safely through our journey here on earth. We love God when we acknowledge and give thanks for all his gifts. We love God when we worship him. We love God when our thoughts, words, and deeds are transformed by his redeeming power.

And that is why Jesus is quick to add that this greatest commandment is not alone or isolated from another one like it—to love our neighbor as ourselves. The love that flows through his Son,toward us, continues to flow out through us as well. This is what it means to live—the greatest commandment is to enter a meaningful relationship—a relationship with our Creator that transforms our lives and relationships with one another. The greatest commandment is the greatest privilege that a creature could have—to experience the love of God in his Son, Jesus Christ and for that same love to extend through us to the world.

“Sing to the Lord a new song”

Psalm 96.1-9

Pastor Tom Johnson, October 16, 2011

 

The Psalmist has not taken an opinion poll. He’s not asking you. He is telling you. He is bidding you. He is calling you. “Sing!” “Sing to the Lord!” “Sing a new song!” The Holy Spirit has filled Psalmist up so much that he cannot contain it any more. His praise, thanksgiving, and worship has been welling up inside and he is ready to burst with song. He wants us to sing to the Lord.

It’s not enough to thank him in monotone or using your indoor voice. He has done too many marvelous things. His name is too wonderful. His goodness has overflowed too much toward us for our praise not to raise new heights, melodies, harmonies, and tones. God wants us to sing a new song about an eternal God who has no beginning and will have no end—a new song about an ancient, redemptive history—a new song with fresh intensity, joyful melody, and profound harmony. This new song comes out of God renewing our spirits and restoring to us the joy of our salvation (Ps 51). This new song springs out of a heart that has discovered for the first time—or for the 1,000th time—God's unconditional love and life-transforming grace.

Next, he calls us further: "Declare God's glory among the nations and God's wonders among all peoples." God wants this choir to take God’s glory on the road—on an international tour of praise. When God fills our heart with this new song—when our spirits are overtaken by his mercy—it is impossible to contain to ourselves. Music is never meant to only be enjoyed alone in our solitude. It’s enjoyable and useful to play and practice alone. But ultimately, music is meant to be shared. Especially this new song. It is meant to be contagious. This praise should spread from person to person until all nations sing God’s universal praise. Music and singing is evangelistic. It is winsome. It is completely positive. It’s beauty attracts its hearers. It’s good news stirs our hearts into action and calls and gathers others to join our heavenly choir.

Martin Luther said, "Music is an endowment and a gift of God, not a gift of men. It drives away the devil and makes people cheerful; one forgets all anger, unchasteness, pride, and other vices. I place music next to theology and give it the highest praise. And we see how David and all saints put their pious thoughts into verse, rhyme, and songs, because music reigns in times of peace."

It is no accident that some of the most glorious music ever written was about Jesus. From Handel's Messiah to Bach's Mass in B Minor, even unbelievers transcend this earthly existence into the heavenly realm of Christ's death and resurrection assuring us of God's grace, love, and eternal life. It is no accident that R and B singer Jennifer Hudson found her soulful voice at her home church right here in Chicago. Her musical roots run deep into the hill of Calvary, the cross, the empty grave, and celebrating our salvation. Even the rapper Eminem lost his voice and was absent from the music scene for about seven years and recently showed back up with a vengeance, a rugged cross around his neck, and a renewed sense of purpose and faith in his Savior, Jesus Christ.

It is not an overstatement to say that we would not have classical music, jazz, or most of the forms of popular music if God's people weren't first singing in the cathedrals in Europe and singing on the plantation fields in the south. In all likelihood, if Jesus did not put new songs into the hearts of his people, turning on our radios would only have the empty drones of a powerless humanity.

Sing to the Lord a new song...all the earth...from day to day...among all peoples! Rediscover the wonder of who God is—the Creator of such a vast universe and yet deeply concerned and interested in every one of his creatures. Be overwhelmed with his magnificence, his presence everywhere, his loving dominion, and limitless power. And let those thoughts, feelings, and eternal truths well up inside like the psalmist and have to burst forth in song.

It’s okay to make music and song a part of our spiritual journey. Not everything we do needs to be analyzed, expressed in a formula, and sound like creedal statement. It is okay to be swept up in the fervor of the Gospel and carried along the wave of Christ’s praise. We know the epicenter of this earthquake is the shout of Jesus on the cross “It is finished” and the stone that rolled away to reveal an empty tomb. You have heard the phrase "preaching to the choir." The psalmist wants the choir to preach to us—and we with them—and all of us to the world.

“The Heavenly Call of God”

Philippians 3.4-11

Pastor Tom Johnson, October 2, 2011

 

Our text from Paul is a remarkably candid and personal account of how he experienced God’s call. For Paul, experiencing the heavenly call of God completely transformed his view of himself, others, and God.

Paul calls this “confidence in the flesh.” His own story crowded out God’s story. His inflated view of self was an obstruction to a heavenly view of God. I rewrote Paul’s words here for our contemporary ears. If Paul were living today, he might have said it this way:

“If anyone has a reason to feel good about oneself, I do. If anyone is at the top of the food chain, I am—above anyone else I can think of. I was baptized by a fifth-generation pastor—the day I was born. The letters “LCMS” are inscribed on my baptismal certificate in permanent ink.

“My Christian heritage can be traced to the heart of the Reformation—I come from a long line of pastors, missionaries, and faithful believers who served in difficult circumstances and were persecuted for their faith.

“My parents brought me to church the first Sunday of my life and had perfect Sunday school attendance every year. I went to parochial school from preschool through grad school. I have a PhD in Theology. I’ve been willing to even perpetrate violence in the name of religion.”

At first, it may seem that Paul is bragging. He is not. In fact, he is telling us that he had this marvelous background and everything going for him, and yet, he did not experience “the heavenly call of God.” He had knowledge about God. But he did not know God.

When I think of Paul and his great heritage and credentials, I think about the pastor of my church growing up: Dr. James Tozer. Dr. Tozer was the descendent of a long line of prominent Christian men and women. Even more remarkable, his lineage is traced to the French Hugeunots.

The Hugeunots were killed by the thousands during the Reformation years and were driven out of France by the hundreds of thousands through religious persecution. Dr. Tozer was closely related to the famous Christian author A. W. Tozer.

Dr. Tozer received his doctorate in theology right here in Chicago at McCormick seminary. He went to my hometown to plant a church near Purdue University. Early on, he realized that he didn’t really have a personal relationship with God.

Dr. Tozer often told his story with his winsome sense of humor and reminded us that someone who has a PhD in Theology may still need to experience the call of God in a personal way—just like Dr. Tozer—just like the Apostle Paul.

After Paul lists his great credentials on his resume, he uses a very crass word to describe it. He calls his resume skubala. Our translation very politely translates it as “rubbish.” His resume a great big pile of—escrement, dung—you get the idea.

The thirteen year-old within me loves this passage of Scripture. It is such a human way to share the radical and heavenly call of God. Paul is thankful that he finally has come to his senses.

Everything else pales in comparison. For some, it is our earthly lineage and credentials. For others, it may be anything keeping us from having a humble view of our selves—anything that convinces us that we have arrived spiritually—either by our birthright or our own accomplishments.

The call of God does not mean that he is calling all of us into full-time ministry. It does not mean that we have to relocate our homes and jobs. What it means is that we experience the heavenly call of God in our life where we are now—to know what Paul calls “the suprassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.”

To know Jesus means that we trust in him the way we do any other person who is trustworthy. We are confident that he loves and accepts us no matter how broken our lives have become. We are assured that we have forgiveness and eternal life because he died and rose again for us.

The heavenly call of God changes the way in which we think, speak, view ourselves, view others, and relate to God. The heavenly call of God is crying out now. God is hot pursuit of our hearts, minds, and lives—zealously pursuing us now. And once we experience it, our lives will never be the same.

God’s call is “heavenly” because he calls us from outside of his creation. He calls through his Word which is the voice of “heaven” speaking to us here and now. He calls us through Baptism through the water and Spirit of adoption and calls us his daughters and sons.

He calls us to the Table to come as we are to be restored and forgiven—giving us his heavenly gifts of his Body and Blood in the bread and the wine. He then calls us out into the world to tell his story and our story so others may hear his call.

God calls us with authority from his throne of heaven. He calls us on a meaningful journey heavenward. And he calls us to assurance and certainty that in Christ we are heavenbound.

“Angelic Stars of Heaven”

Daniel 12.1-3

Revelation 12.7-12

Pastor Tom Johnson, September 25, 2011

 

The the idea of someone or something watching over us is as simple as a gaze into the night sky. The fixed stars are the lesser gods. The traveling stars—what we know as planets—were the greater gods—the sun the father, the moon the mother. Even the creation story in Genesis tries to dispel that early explanation—God made the stars, the sun, and the moon. From the beginning, God the Creator is the only one, true, and living God.

And yet, in the context of both our readings from Daniel and Revelation, both authors worshiped the angels they encountered. Both fall down prostrate because of how awesome the angels appear. But they are immediately encouraged not to bow dow but worship God alone. They are not to be worshiped but listened to. The angels have a message for us. The word angel simply means “messenger.” Angels are often the ones who deliver news from God. An angel gave Mary the message that she would have a son. Angels rolled away the stone from Jesus’ tomb so that the disciples would see it empty. Angels were the first to announce that Jesus had risen from the dead.

Artwork depicts angels with wings, harps, halos, and the faces and bodies of babies. But Scripture describes angels as beaming with light, radiant robes, warrior physiques, with weapons or trumpets. The one creature that has wings, the Seraph, do not have two but six wings—and not two eyes but a multitude of eyes. Angels are creatures—created beings who serve God. But as our readings remind us this morning, some of those angels rebelled. We don’t know when or how it all began, but war broke out in heaven. Those that opposed God were quickly defeated by Michael and the army of other angels he led.

The war that started in heaven spilled out to us when God exiled Satan and those who followed his rebellion. And again, we don’t know why God would allow evil to enter our world. And so we know Satan and his fallen angels are defeated foes. They have already lost the war. They have been driven out of heaven. And it is only a matter of time before the last battle is fought. Satan is angry and enraged, our text says, “because he knows that his time is short.” Satan is like the general of a defeated army. He knows that he cannot win the war. Each major battle has been lost. But rather than surrender to Michael the general of God’s army, he will not go down without a fight. His time is short. But he will fight until the bitter end.

Both Daniel’s vision and John’s revelation of angels are revealed to them bring a message to us. The messengers of God want us to be grounded in reality—to assure the believer that victory has been won. The angels give us a peek into heaven to see that our salvation is secure and that eternal peace is near. But here is where our discussion of angels takes an unexpected turn: even the archangel Michael and his army of angels do not defeat God’s enemies by their own strength or any power that they possess. “They conquer [the enemy] by the blood of the Lamb and by the word.” As Luther’s great hymn says, “Though devils all the world should fill, All eager to devour us, We tremble not, we fear no ill; They shall not overpower us. The world’s prince may still Scowl fierce as he will, He can harm us none. He’s judged; the deed is done; One little word can fell him.”

When Jesus died on the cross of Calvary. He did not just bear the load of our sin and the world’s brokenness. He also bore the load of all evil—Satan, his angelic host, and even death itself. The world’s evil—human and angelic—did their best defeat Jesus. It briefly seemed that Jesus was the defeated. He died. He was buried. The sealed tomb seemed like it swallowed him up forever. But early that third day, by the power of that blood that he shed on Friday the Word himself rose victoriously from the grave. And it is by the power of that same blood and Word that Michael and his army defeated Satan.

And so, if Jesus defeated death and sin by his own blood—and the angels defeated Satan and his army by Jesus’ blood and his Word—then we also must win our battles—not by our own strength—but by that same blood and the Word.

Do you remember our desciption of the angels—like stars of heaven? At the end of our reading from Daniel—and at the end of John’s vision in revelation—it describes a time after we finish our battles on earth. Soon we “shall shine like the brightness of the sky…and like the stars forever and ever.” The bright stars of the night sky are a shadow of what we will become. God will transform us from creatures of dust into bright and angelic occupants of our heavenly home—all by the power of the Blood and the Word, Jesus.

“God’s Boundless Concern”

Jonah 3.10-4:11

Pastor Tom Johnson, September 18, 2011

 

Jonah thought God was mistaken when he called the prophet to go preach to the Ninevites. The Ninevites had their own religion. They were foreigners. They were a violent people. And Jonah’s people were victims of their violence. But Jonah knew God to be good and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. And so Jonah went in the opposite direction—to the opposite side of the known world—to Tarshish in modern day Spain. And, you remember the story...

God caused a storm to almost sink the ship Jonah and it’s pagan crew was on. They prayed to their gods while Jonah was sleeping in ignorance. When he realized that they were all going to die, he volunteered to be thrown overboard—willing to die so that Nineveh would not hear God’s word. We should think of the greater prophet to come, Jesus, who is willing to die so that the whole world hear God’s word of forgiveness and eternal life.

But a great fish, out of obedience to the Creator that put the disobedience of the prophet to shame, swallowed Jonah whole. And it was only while the stomach acid and lack of oxygen ate away at Jonah that he had a partial change of heart. At the command of God, the fish vomits Jonah up in the correct direction toward that axis of evil, Nineveh. And Jonah walks around the city preaching his doom and gloom: “In forty days God will turn you all to ash,” he says. It was a horrible sermon. The only thing Jonah preached was the imminent destruction of that great city. There was no hope for redemption in his message. Jonah preached a fiery, vengeful, and angry God who was about to crush them.

But then the unexpected happened. Despite the disobedient prophet and his poor homeletical skills, the Ninevites begin to respond. The Ninevites cover themselves with ash. Even the animals were covered in sackcloth and ash. Both humans and non-humans fasted and prayed 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 repented.

After Jonah is done preaching doom and gloom, he found somewhere he could sit to watch God rain fire and brimstone on Nineveh. It was hot and dry place. So, when he found a bush to shade himself under, he appreciated the plant very much. Jonah loved the shade-tree but still despised those Ninevite humans and their animals. So when nothing happens to the Ninevites but, instead, God causes a worm to eat the shade tree, Jonah is angry—so angry that he says that he is “angry enough to die”—he was willing to let his 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. “You are concerned about the bush, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow; it came into being in a night and perished in night.” “Jonah, I am the Creator. You are just another creature. Don’t fall under the delusion that you are the master of your own destiny. Don’t limit my goodness to your own little world.” “Don’t have such a enlarged view of yourself in the place of creation and such a small view of other humans, animals, and plants. And even more importantly, don’t have such a small view of the Creator of heaven and earth and his love.”

“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. The greatness of any city is matched by the greatness of God’s love. No skyscraper reaches out of reach of God’s love. No urban sprawl passes out of the boundry of God’s mercy. 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 compassion and care. A great city will always be outmatched the greatness of God’s love.

Also, 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. "Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world—red and yellow, black and [Ninevite]—all are precious in his site. Jesus loves the little children of the world."

And finally, God cares about the many animals in Nineveh. His love is not bound to humans. His love is so deep and so wide that it extends to the depths of the oceans to the great fish and to the cattle on every hill.

If God loves the great cities, little children, and even the animals, so should we. We too should target that mass of urban humanity, prioritize teaching our little ones the Gospel, and we should not forget to be good stewards of God’s creation by caring for plants, fish, and animals.

"The Prison of Unforgiveness"

Matthew 18.21-35

Pastor Tom Johnson, September 11, 2011

 

This morning we need to put our math hats on. It begins with Peter’s numerical question: “If someone wrongs me, how often should I forgive? Seven times?” How many times must I forgive? What is the threshold of enough forgiveness? When does asking for forgiveness over and over again become an unhealthy pattern and abuse of mercy? Seven times sounds pretty reasonable. Otherwise we run the risk of encouraging serial wrong-doers. Rather than helping them by our forgiveness, we may be enabling them. It seems reasonable, doesn’t it?

But Jesus does not think that Peter is nearly generous enough with his mercy and forgiveness. “Not seven times,” Jesus says, “but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.” In other words, forgive over and over again—even until you lose count. Scripture says, “Love keeps no record of wrongs.” God himself says over and over again, “I will remember your sins no more.” By raising the bar of forgiveness, Jesus wants us to be generous and frequent in our forgiveness. And so he tells a story.

A king confronts a slave who owes him an enormous debt. The man owes the king 10,000 talents. One talent is 15 years of wages for a worker. In other words, the man owed him 15 times 10,000 talents. Today, the average worker makes about $40,000. That means that the slave owed the king, by today’s standard, 6 billion dollars. A year ago, that was the estimate of how much money Mark Zuckerberg, founder of Facebook was worth. No explanation is given how this slave could have spent such a vast amount of money. Jesus makes no comment how this king could have let the slave get away with accumulating so much debt.

When the slave cannot pay the king, the king plans to sell the slave, his wife, children, and all that he has to help pay what he owes. The slave drops to his knees and begs for more time. And the king’s heart is filled with pity and compassion. The king does not just give him more time to pay what he owes. He completely writes the debt off. He wipes his financial slate clean. The slave has his freedom, family, possessions, and owes nothing to the king.

As the slave leaves, he comes upon a fellow slave. His colleague owes him one hundred denarii—that is one hundred days of wages. That is about $15,000 based on the same average yearly wage. That is 1/400,000th of what he owed the king. Like the first slave, this slave also begs for more time and promises to pay him back. The indebted slave cannot fall to his knees because the first slave has him by the throat. And rather than give him more time, he has him put in prison. When all the other slaves see what he did, it absolutely knocks the wind out of them. They are “greatly distressed” and tell everything that happened to the king who is just as shocked as everyone else. It’s in the king’s rebuke where we find the principle of forgiveness: “Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?” “Shouldn’t my forgiving you your billions encourage you to forgive someone else’s thousands?”

And here is the twist to our story: the slave is not in prison for his debt but for his unforgiveness. It is a prison of unforgiveness—the bonds and shackles of a merciless and uncompassionate heart. The great tragedy of this story is that what the king forgave did not result in life-transformation and a compassionate heart. And that is the point of the story to Peter, to the other disciples, and to me and you. God, in his mercy, has forgiven us billions of dollars of sins through Jesus. If we truly understand how much mercy and love we have received, how can we withhold mercy and love toward others?

If we are unable or not willing to forgive others, it is because we are trapped in our own prison of unforgiveness. We only have ourselves to blame for our incarceration. And that is the warning of this passage, that harboring bitterness, anger, resentment, and unforgiveness does just as much harm to ourselves as it does toward others.

A little over twenty years ago, my sister was living in Manhatten and took me to the top of one of the trade center towers. The images of those towers in flame and collapsing deeply impacted me. I still cannot fathom the enormity of that crime against humanity—the loss of life, the grief, and the unanswered questions. And yet, Jesus is talking about sin on a colossal scale—crime against humanity truly of biblical proportions. He reminds us that God’s forgiveness is even more colossal and able to cover the vilest offender. Many of us cannot even begin to imagine the grief and visceral outcry of those who lost loved ones. But for all of us, Jesus reminds us that victimization can lead to greater tragedy—the prison of unforgiveness, vitriolic anger, and vengeance.

On our journey from the events of 9/11 into the future, we must remember to go by the way of the cross. The King has forgiven the enormity of our sin and brokeness. Forgiveness is the only thing that will motivate true heart change. We have been completely forgiven. And we have the opportunity to spread that same forgiveness around us to transform the world. As the hymn born out of tragic loss says:

“When I survey the wondrous cross On which the Prince of glory died, My richest gain I count but loss, And pour contempt on all my pride. Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all.”

"God's Presence in Conflict"

Matthew 18.15-20

Pastor Tom Johnson, September 4, 2011

 

We human beings love conflict. I think of being out on the playground on recess. Two children begin exchanging words and a shoving match begins. And their classmates begin to chant, “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” Rathering than crying out “Peace!” We seem to enjoy watching and escalating violence. In our teenage years, we encounter junior high politics—where gossip and defamation of character rule the day.

Instead of setting aside our childish ways, we simply dress it up in adult clothing. In stead of crying “Fight!” we shrewdly share an unfavorable tidbit of information about someone at the water cooler. “Did you hear what so-and-so did?” Often times our first reaction to being offended by someone is to run in the opposite direction and tell our sordid tale. We hope to gather a crowd of people who are just as sick and tired of that individual as we are. Call it what you want: “junior high politics,” “gossip,” “playground bullying,” or “poor interpersonal skills.” The Bible calls it “sin.” It it is part of our broken human condition. And it is all too common among Christians who should know better.

Jesus’ teaching on conflict presupposes that there will be conflict in the church. In fact, there is conflict whenever people come together. And far too many people have left the church or “organized religion,” because they are tired of the fighting, the backbiting, and lack of transformative peace among believers. Mahatma Ghandi, advocate and non-violent organizer for the forgotten poor of India said, “I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” Sadly, many Christians and Christian communitities are so unlike Jesus. We love conflict. God loves reconciliation.

Jesus could not be more practical in his words of wisdom. He outlines a three-step program for peace among believers. Step one: confront the offender in private. Step two: if necessary, confront the person again with witnesses. Step three: if necessary, seek out the authority of the church.

Step one. Don’t be a coward. If you are offended, go and tell that person why you are offended. If your offense is unfounded, you will have a hard time convincing them they’ve wronged you. Jesus tells us to get in their face. You are more likely to not blow things out of proportion. There is accountability when you go directly to the source. You are less likely exaggerate, less likely to twist the truth to make yourself look better, and less likely to embellish the story to make the other person look even worse. And by doing it in private no one needs to know about it. You protect yourself and the other person in case it was all a misunderstanding. You can let it go and leave it behind you because it was resolved in the peaceful confines of private conversation. The goal is reconciliation. What’s so beautiful about step one is that more times than not you leave that confrontation having won a sister or brother. They now know that you want peace. You care about harmonious relationships. And you leave with that warm feeling of peace in your gut that the thought that human beings aren’t as bad as you thought.

If step one does not work, Jesus gives us step two. Step two is find one or two mediators. Someone trustworthy and impartial. Someone who can keep things in confidence. This person’s job is to establish the truth. They have not taken sides. They want each person to see more clearly. Their goal is reconciliation. So, at most, three or four people know how ugly things got. No more than four people know how messy things became. So, once it’s over, and reconciliation happens, everyone goes home knowing the dirty laundry—but they have seen it go through the wash cycle and the wringer and come out as white as snow.

If step two fails. Jesus tells us to go to step three. Step three is really the same as step two. It just involves more people and the authority of the church. That means the leadership and the pastor should be the last to know about conflict in the church! Jesus assumes that believers will have the maturity and unction of the Holy Spirit to resolve conflict in a godly, efficient manner. Say goodbye to gossip, junior high politics, and petty fighting. Say hello to a ministry of reconciliation.

If all three steps fail, Jesus says to treat the offender as a Gentile and a tax collector. And just how did Jesus himself treat Gentiles and tax collectors? He loved them. He called them. He taught them the good news to the ignorant. He died and rose for their forgiveness, salvation, and eternal life. When we don’t deal with conflict in a peaceful way, is not just a misunderstanding of how to relate to one another. It ultimately is an indicator that we do not understand the very heart of the Gospel itself. Jesus says to treat people like this as a mission field. In other words, start the three steps over again at the most fundamental level. They do not understand that at the heart of the Gospel is forgiveness and reconciliation.

In the end, Jesus assures us that where two or three gather in his name—even in conflict—there he is in our midst. Jesus will bless and enable us by the Holy Spirit to see the transformational power of the Gospel—where forgiveness, reconciliation, and peace reign. “How very good and pleasant it is when sisters and brothers dwell together in unity!” (Psalm 133). Jesus has shown us the way.

"Forfeiting Our Souls"

Matthew 16.21-28

Pastor Tom Johnson, August 28, 2011

 

Jesus asks a penetrating question in our Gospel reading this morning: “What will it profit [you] if [you] gain the whole world but forfeit [your] soul? Or what will [you] give in return for [your] soul?”

Jesus just dropped a bomb on his disciples. He tells his disciples that he must suffer greatly, die, and rise again. Peter thinks this is an outrageous plan. He loves Jesus. He says, “God forbid it! This will never happen to you.” Jesus tells Peter to get out of his way. And he calls Peter “Satan”—which means “the adversary.” Peter has set him self against God’s will and plan for humanity. He is being an obstacle—adversarial to Jesus’ journey toward Jerusalem and his ultimate death and resurrection.

Peter is thinking about self-preservation. It is a completely natural human response. We burn our hand on the strove and we quickly pull it away and nurse it. We lock our doors at night. We walk the other direction if we see danger. mPeter heard Jesus talk about great suffering and death. I’m not sure if he quite heard Jesus speak about resurrection. But Peter cared about the welfare of Jesus. But it is through Peter’s rebuking of Jesus that Jesus hears the Adversary’s voice trying to keep him from giving his life for the world. Peter wants Jesus to tighten his grip on the things of the world and on his own self-preservation. And Jesus responds with the proverb, “What will it profit [you] if [you] gain the whole world but forfeit [your] soul? Or what will [you] give in return for [your] soul?”

How valuable is human life? What is your soul worth? What is your life worth? Jesus is remarkably current in understanding the importance of self-worth. How much do you value your own existence? At what price will you sell yourself on the auction block of the world?

Sin is like the the antigospel—the antithesis of the good news of Jesus Christ. Sin is pursuing our own unhealthy appetites at all costs. Our energy, our attention, and our time is consumed by whatever it is that we want and desire. And if we are really selfish we forget or stop caring how it effects others. One individual’s greed can destroy a whole corporation. One person’s addiction can destroy families and carreers. Personal vengeance can leave a trail of casualties a mile long. Jesus reminds us that it is in the pursuit of the world that we can forfeit our souls. We do spiritual harm to ourselves and others. We fixate on the world to the detriment of our spiritual well-being. As Jesus says earlier in Matthew’s Gospel:

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

The truth is that when we fixate on ourselves and our own wants and needs, we are not helping ourselves at all. God wants us to trust him as not only our Creator but also our Sustainer. If Jesus embraced Peter’s rebuke—if Jesus tried to avoid suffering and death—Jesus never would have triumphed over death and the grave. He never would have been able to bring us forgiveness and eternal life. He never would have risen victoriously from the grave. Peter’s plan would have robbed the world of a Savior. Imagine if Jesus was more concerned about his own self-preservation than the humanity’s salvation—if he was more driven by wordly ambition than by eternal redemption. He would not be the Christ but the Antichrist.

Jesus’ mission was so entrenched in his mind and spirit that he would not even allow Peter or the Adversary to put an obstacle before him for a second. Jesus came into the world to bring forgiveness, life, and salvation.

Jesus wants it not only to be his own personal mission but our mission as well. “What will it profit [you] if [you] gain the whole world but forfeit [your] soul? Or what will [you] give in return for [your] soul?”

This is a radical understanding of what it means to love God with all of your heart, mind, soul, and strength—and to love your neighbor as yourself. Jesus is calling us to drastically rearrange our priorities. Its all too natural to put ourselves first and let our relationship with others and God fall by the wayside. But Jesus is calling us to put him first—to take up our cross and follow him—to make him the head and captain of our souls. And when we do give up trying to gain the world and its treasures for ourselves—when we lose ourselves in Jesus and others—the irony is that we haven’t forfeited our souls but rather that our souls have been redeemed by God.

“What profit is it to gain the whole world but forfeit your soul?” Ironically, Jesus turns this question on its head: He forfeits his life to gain the world. What will you give in return for your soul?” Jesus turns this question on its head also: Jesus gives his life on the cross and rises from the dead not for himself but for us,