"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.