"Pleading Guilty"

Matthew 25:11-46

Pastor Tom Johnson, November 23, 2014

[Story from The Empty Pot by Demi; http://www.amazon.com/The-Empty-Pot-Demi/dp/0805012176/ref=tmm_hrd_title_0]

“A long time ago in China there was a boy named Ping who loved flowers.” When Ping planted flowers, they seemed to just spring up without much effort and by his sheer love for their beauty and aroma. One day, Ping heard that the Emperor was calling on all children to grow flowers for him. Like Ping, “the Emperor loved birds and animals, but flowers most of all, and he tended his own garden every day. But the Emperor was very old. He needed to choose a successor to the throne. All the children in the land were to come to the palace. There they would be given special flower seeds by the Emperor. ‘Whoever can show me their best I a year’s time,’ he said, ‘will succeed me to the throne.’” And so all the children got busy with their seed, finding the right soil, and choosing their flower pots. No matter what Ping did, however, the seed would not grow. The rich soil and carefully chosen pot did not bring even a little seedling—not even a sprout. Changing the soil and putting different amounts of water in the pot produced nothing. Ping had no flower to present to the Emperor. It was time for the children in the land to come to the palace. “Spring came, and all the children put on their best clothes to greet the Emperor. They rushed to the palace with their beautiful flowers.”

And so it is in our Gospel text: the sheep and the goats stand before the King of Heaven and Earth. King Jesus wants an account of their works—our works. He wants to know what we have done with the seed of the Gospel planted into our lives and into the lives of those around us To the sheep, he says, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food…thirsty and you gave me drink…a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, sick and in prison and you visited me.” “Lord, when did we do that?” “We are empty of good works. We have not served you as you have commanded. We can’t plead our own righteousness. We are guilty.”

To the goats, Jesus says, “Depart from me, you cursed.” “For I was hungry and you did not give me food…thirsty and you did not give me drink…a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.” “Lord, when did we did we not do that?” “We are full of good works. We have served you as you have commanded. We plead our own righteousness. We are innocent of violating your law.”

“Spring came, and all the children put on their best clothes to greet the Emperor. They rushed to the palace with their beautiful flowers.” Ping also received the call to go to the Emperor. Ping’s father told him he should go too. But Ping did not see any point. He had no flowers like the children he saw making their way to the Emperor’s palace. “Ping’s father said, ‘You did your best, and your best is good enough to present to the Emperor.’” And so, Ping brought his empty pot to the Emperor. When Ping finally had his turn to present himself, he said, “I planted the seed you gave me and I watered it everyday, but it didn’t sprout. I put it in a better pot with better soil, but still it didn’t sprout! I tended it all year long, but nothing grew. So today I had to bring an empty pot without a flower. It was the best I could do.” The emperor stood up and took a deep breath in. With a commanding voice he said, “I have found him! I have found the one person worthy of being Emperor!”

To the children with the pots with flowers, he said, “Where you got your seeds from, I do not know. For the seeds I gave you had all been cooked. So it was impossible for any of them to grow.” And turning to Ping, he said, “I admire Ping’s great courage to appear before me with the empty truth, and now I reward him with my entire kingdom and make him Emperor of all the land!”

We also come to the emperor with empty pots. We come to Christ empty of good works. We stand before his with no flowery righteousness. We plead guilty. Like Ping, we serve God with our left hand not knowing what our right hand is doing (Matt 6:3). We serve with holy ignorance because our faith and trust is not in ourselves and what we believe we can do for God. When we are honest with ourselves and with God, we can only say, “We are unworthy servants” (Luke 17:10). In our plea of guilt, we proclaim the righteousness of Christ, the King. We throw ourselves into the hands of his mercy—hands that bore the judgment for our sin—hands marked with the nails of the Cross. We confess our guilt. Christ’s proclaims our forgiveness and gives us eternal righteousness and worthiness. 

Nothing in my hand I bring
Simply to Thy cross I cling
Naked come to Thee for dress
Helpless, look to Thee for grace.

"Buried Talent"

Matthew 25:14-30

Pastor Tom Johnson, November 16, 2014

A talent in the Bible is the largest weight or measure. It is about 75 lbs. of silver coins. It is the equivalent of 6,000 denarii—or 6,000 days’ wages. Today that would be about $500,000. A talent is a half million dollars. Without any direction, the master gives 2.5 million dollars to one person, 1 million dollars to another, and a half million to the other. He already had their ability to invest in mind when he gave them this ridiculous amount of money into their care. This is reckless generosity and trust that he puts into these three slaves and then just goes away on a long journey. When he returns, one slave increases his 2.5 to $5 million, the other 1 to 2 million, and the last one literally buried his talent. The two that invested the money are called good and trustworthy and are further rewarded. They are entrusted with more of his resources, and invited into the joy of their master. The one that buried his talent loses his place of privilege.

The heart of this parable is the fear and unbelief of the talent-burying slave. His whole concept of his master is wrong. He calls him “a harsh man, reaping where [he does] not sow, and gathering where [he does] not scatter seed.” And it is because he is afraid that he went and hid his talent into the ground. A false view of his master leads to fear; and fear leads to irrational, ridiculous behavior. Consider the slave’s accusation: he accuses the master of harvesting crops he did not plant—benefitting from investments he did not invest in.

I am not trained in business but isn’t that exactly what the master did when he invested the millions of dollars into his three slaves? He planted financial seed-money into the lives and care of his servants. It is the servant who does something completely bizarre; he buries 75 lbs of silver into the ground so that no one can find it. Does he think that the silver will sprout out of the ground and produce more silver? “Money does not grow on trees” as my parents would like to remind me. Neither does it multiply like seed in the soil. And so, when the master says, “You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter?” it should be said with the sarcastic tone that it is intended. It does not describe who this master is at all. “So, you believe that I am harsh and basically a thief of my own possessions, do you? You could have at least invested your talent conservatively in an IRA—or even at a low interest rate in a savings account at your bank. But what can I do with someone who accuses his generous master of callousness and robbery? How can I trust someone whose irrational fear leads to erratic behavior. How can that servant be trusted?” He can’t. He must go—even if it is in tears and grinding his teeth in resentment and anger.

It is this servant’s own unbelief and fear that put him outside of the work of the Kingdom. It is his own faithlessness that led him away from the generosity and joy of his master. He believed a lie about his master. And it paralyzed him in fear. And this, I think, is why this parable of Jesus is relevant to us. The judgment that awaits us is already upon us now. When Jesus comes back, he will simply unmask the lies and uncover what has always been there but hidden away out of fear, unbelief, and our irrational behavior.

This is a tough parable. But it answers the prayer we prayed at the beginning of the service—to “keep in mind the end of all things and the day of judgment so that we may be stirred up to holiness of life here and may live with God forever.” God wants to stir up our faithfulness and godly living by letting go of the lies about God and letting go of the fear that can paralyze us. This parable is about how a wrong view of God will bankrupt us spiritually. It is intended to keep us from burying our own talent.

It is a lie that God is harsh, unfeeling, uncaring, or spiteful. God is “good, and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love” (Exod 34:6). He loved the world by sending us his Son Jesus to draw us tenderly and lovingly to himself. It is a lie that God exploits his creation—that he is looking for ways that he can rob us of our stuff, our joy, our health, or bring us harm. It is this lie that will cause us to bury our talent. God is the source of all goodness and everything that sustains us. God blesses individuals, families, churches, and peoples with different amounts of talents—though apparently he is not egalitarian. Some people and some groups would break the bank with all their talents. As Jesus says elsewhere, “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded” (Luke 12:48).

Let’s be clear: the one talent is a huge gift—a magnificent and colossal amount of resources. That is the true nature of our Master. He is generous to everyone. He sends rain on the righteous and unrighteous alike (Matt 5:45). We can be our worst enemy when we are not good students of the Master—when we don’t cultivate a view of God who is. God has sown a ridiculous amount of talents into the lives of his creation.  And it is faith in a good and gracious God—not fear of a supreme being lording it over his creation—that will propel us forward into God’s rich economy of grace. It is the promise of entering the joy of the master that will fuel our faith and action. God plants us into the soil of the earth. He gives us life, family, friends, talent, abilities, and spiritual gifts. God, the Lord of the Harvest,  calls us to go out and plant the seed of these resources into the world around us. Together we share the work of the Kingdom. And when he comes back from what seems like a very long journey, he will call us into the eternal joy of the master.

Concordia Sunday with the Rev. Dr. Jeff Leininger

Matthew 25:1–13

Click below to hear Pastor Jeff's sermon:

Concordia is a University “centered in the gospel of Jesus Christ." This means that the good news of who Jesus is and what he has done remains the source, center, and purpose of all we do. There are other Universities which are “Christian” in name or history, only. That’s not us. The life of Christ is lived-out in countless ways at Concordia: from the classroom, to the dorm room, to the practice field, to the concert hall, our students are being formed to lead and serve with “integrity, creativity, competence and compassion”—all in His name.

Concordia is highly regarded nationally through the contributions of its faculty and graduates to the work and mission of the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod. Of particular interest to congregations are programs such as Director of Christian Education, Director of Parish Music, Deaconess, Pre-seminary and Lutheran Teacher Education that directly impact Lutheran parishes and institutions throughout the world.

The University also offers hundreds of other graduate and undergraduate programs in a diversity of academic disciplines such as nursing, accounting, counseling, business and technology, as well its excellent liberal arts programs. 

The Lord has abundantly blessed this institution and its 34,000 alumni over its 150-year history. We give all thanks and praise to the Triune God for the impact of hundreds of programs delivered in 37 states and 26 countries worldwide.

Find out more at www.cuchicago.edu

“Blessed are they who mourn”

Matthew 5:1-12

Pastor Tom Johnson, November 2, 2014

Today I want to highlight just one of the many profound and perplexing things Jesus says in our Gospel reading; that is, when he says, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Why would those who mourn—those who sorrow— be blessed? How could our sadness be evidence of God’s hand of blessing? Or more personally, how can our grief be a good and gracious sign that we are exactly where God wants us to be? Jesus does not tell us exactly what these blessed people are mourning about or sorrowing over. I think that is by design. Sadly, there are a number of things that can cause us grief.

The Bible itself calls us to mourn or lament loss of all kinds. Jesus says it is not while the Groom is with you on his wedding day that you grieve but later on when he is taken away (Matt 9:15). This pointed to the time when the disciples were in mourning and weeping after he was taken away and crucified. Paul told the Corinthians that they should mourn and grieve over destructive, sinful behavior in the Church. James tells that we should “be afflicted, and mourn, and weep: let [our] laughter be turned into mourning and [our] joy to gloom”—this sorrow over our own worldliness and our own sinfulness (James 4:9). Scripture calls us to join God’s sadness over his creation. And so Jesus says “Blessed are those who mourn” to invite us into this godly sorrow (2 Cor 7:10). We are blessed who feel the pain of separation—for whatever reason—whether it be circumstances in the world, evil, our own sin, or even death.

It goes without saying that you and I would be unfeeling, cold, and heartless if we did not feel the pain of loss for any of these maladies. It is normal and healthy to be shocked at the news of loss. It is normal to express sadness and shed tears, be depressed and lonely, experience anxiety, and to even feel anger and resentment. It is normal to experience this wide range of mourning and sorrow and grief—and for it to change day to day.

Jesus calls us deep into this sorrow—deeper than just mourning over loss but grief over the whole human condition. He invites us to lament the pride that we puff ourselves up with. He invites us to lament the lack of empathy and lack of compassion we feel toward one another. He calls us to grieve over our persecution and believers around the world will face on his account. Later in this Sermon on the Mount, he will express words of sorrow over murder—and not just literal, physical violence but also hateful thoughts and hate-filled words. This is a sorrow that goes deep and wide—deep into the sinful heart of humanity and its devastating effects on a global scale. Jesus invites us into his sorrow—the sorrow of God over the loss of his creation to sin, evil, and death.

But God does not grieve over us without hope; his sadness is not without love for his creation. And so he sends his only Son, Jesus, the Man of Sorrows. He will become acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53:3) so that he can bring hope, healing, forgiveness, and life to the whole world. And so Jesus says,

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

“For they will be comforted.” “Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning!” (Ps 30:5). Here we have the promise that no pain or sorrow is too deep or out of reach that God’s grace, love, and joy cannot go deeper still. This promise of comfort is what gives us the courage to confront our sorrows. It strengthens our faith to go down the path of grief with the assurance that it will one day lead to joy and celebration of life. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” And so we soberly enter the darkness of this world and of our hearts often with deep sadness—but not with despair—and not without hope—but with the promise of the dawn of a new day and the assurance of a Savior who delivers forgiveness and eternal life.

This is what our choir will preach to us in just a few moments from our hymn:

The golden evening brightens in the west; Soon, soon to faithful warriors cometh rest; Sweet is the calm of paradise the blest. Alleluia! Alleluia!

And we respond:

But, lo, there breaks a yet more glorious day: The saints triumphantly rise in bright array; The King of Glory passes on His way. Alleluia! Alleluia!

Blessed are those who courageously confront their hurts and their faults. Blessed are those who feel the pain of loss and fractured relationships. Blessed are those who long to be reunited with those they love and the Savior who longs to bring us to himself.

“Blessed are those who mourn—for they will be comforted.”