“Truly Disciples” (John 8:31-36)

John 8:31-36

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Pastor Tom Johnson, October 30, 2016

Jesus says, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples.” Here Jesus sets the bar of what a true disciple is—someone who listens and whose lifestyle reflects the teachings of Jesus. This Scripture is a good one for us to focus on the heart of what Reformation is all about. Reformation is about recovering the truth of God’s Word. We become students of God’s Word. And then we experience how it transforms lives. That is what disciple means—student, pupil, learner. A disciple is a follower. A disciple has chosen a path that has a learning curve. A disciple has begun a journey of discovery. A disciple knows she or he may need to adjust their understanding. A disciple knows that they may need to expand their knowledge and perspective.

That is what began to set apart Martin Luther, the 16th century German monk. As a young person, and later as a student of theology, he began to live in terror of God and even hate God’s righteousness. He saw God as holy, righteous, and perfect. And that he is. He was taught that God demands holiness, righteousness, and perfection from us. And that he does. That is what the Church taught—God’s Law. And Luther was a good student. He reminded people his whole life he was a doctor of theology. But instead of learning to love God, he learned to run away from God and even despise his demands.

When Jesus says that true disciples continue in his Word, among other things, the people listening to him betray their own ignorance. They say they as a people have never been slaves to anyone. They have not learned the lessons of the Hebrew Bible—that as a people they were slaves for generations in Egypt and Babylon. But the problem is not the fact that they had forgotten, or never learned, a few facts in the Scriptures. The problem is that they do not seem open to continued learning and instruction. They do not seem like they are willing to adjust and grow in their understanding.

And the same things that kept them from becoming true disciples will keep us from becoming true disciples. In Luther’s day, the same things almost kept him and the people in the church from becoming true disciples. Pride is probably the biggest. And it can take many forms. Pride can be the belief that we are entitled to God’s love—that we are born into privilege of race, ethnicity, religion, or class. We do not need to go on a journey of discovery because we believe we have already arrived. Think of what they said to Jesus: “We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone.” In fact, they were slaves for generations in Egypt and in Babylon. Maybe it is also laziness or complacency that keeps people from continuing in God’s Word. It will take us out of our comfort zone if we begin to see that we have believed a lie all our lives. It is jarring and alarming to realize that our view of God and of ourselves may have been wrong all along.

This is what Jesus wants to free people of. He wants us to experience the freedom that comes when we become true disciples—when we begin to learn and grow in the Word. A whole new world opens up to us—and it is true and good. Those who hear Jesus have that opportunity. It is a simple but profound truth: God adopts us as his daughters and sons through his Son and his Word. We are made children of God by Christ alone and the authority of Scripture alone. This is what Luther discovered on his faith journey. This is the heart of the Reformation that we credit him with: that he re-discovered the Good News of the Bible. It was there all along. But the Church lost her way, had forgotten, or was too proud to let go of her power over people’s lives.

Tomorrow is the 499th anniversary of the Reformation. Luther nailed the 95 theses to the church door in Wittenberg. It could be called the 95 rants against the church. Luther uses humor to highlight the grace of God. "If the Pope and the church can forgive sin, then why don't they do it for free?" he asks. Instead the church was charging money for indulgences to buy time out of purgatory. Luther was calling people to wake up to the truth. It was a challenge to Christians and the institutional church to continue in Christ’s Word. It was a wake up call to stop the abuses of the church and to find comfort in Jesus Christ alone. Luther went on to translate the entire Bible into German. He did so in hiding, in fear of his life, and against the wishes of the institutional church. He wanted people to be able to read, listen, and understand Scripture in their own language. How can a person continue in Christ’s Word if they have no access to it or no understanding? Luther was so confident in his understanding of the Bible that he knew that if he just pointed in the right direction, people would find freedom indeed—freedom from guilt, bondage to sin, and the assurance that true children of God enjoy.

This comes by continuing in the Word of Jesus. Scripture alone is the final authority and source of truth about sinful condition. God’s law is there to point out our sin and how we have missed the mark
every day. Yes, God still demands holiness, righteousness, and perfection from us. But the good news brings us the life, teachings, death, and resurrection of Jesus. He came from heaven to earth to set us free. Knowing and trusting in Jesus sets us free. By faith alone we receive all the benefits of a true child of God. In Jesus, we have a forgiveness, we have a permanent place in the household of God, we are royal daughters and sons forever. This is a lifelong journey of glorious discovery. We get to do this together. It is what we call Reformation—to continue in God’s Word together. And we become what Jesus calls “truly his disciples.”

“The sinner’s prayer” (Luke 18:9-14)

Luke 18:9-14

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Pastor Tom Johnson, October 23, 2016

Jesus tells a parable. He crafts a story to illustrate the truth—the truth about ourselves—the truth about how we view others. He wants us to soberly look in the mirror. He wants us to compassionately look at others around us. He tells a parable to address a most serious problem. This problem is pride. And there are two sides to this ugly coin. On the one side is self-righteousness. On the other is regarding others with contempt. He helps us understand through a short story—a short audio and visual into the secret thoughts of our hearts. Two people go up to the temple to pray. Two worshippers ascend the mountain to enter the House of God. They have the same goal—to pray. But their words, their hearts, and their prayers are as different as day is from night. One is Pharisee. The other is a tax collector.

The Pharisee has been raised in the holy faith. He has been trained in the Scriptures. He is a community leader. He is a guardian of the truth of God. He is a defender of all that is noble and good. He stands by himself in the Temple court. He prays, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.” For the Pharisee, getting God’s attention is a competition—it a game of comparison. He throws others under the bus so that he can stand tall. “God, I thank you,” he says, “thanks be to God that I am who I am—unique, good, tame, pure, and honest. Just look at how I measure against those who might present themselves to you. I am not like the dregs of society. I am not a member of the rabble. I am not part of the riff-raff.” “God, if you look at the scars, wounds, and filth of other people, I ought to look pretty darn good.”

Is God so easily fooled? Do we think that we can distract God from seeing our imperfections by drawing his attention to the faults and sins of others? Do we think that if God takes more notice the filth in others that it will make us squeaky clean? The Pharisee is only fooling himself. We are only distracting ourselves from our own faults, sins, and imperfections when we look down on those around us. We are living in denial of our own need for forgiveness, life and salvation when we only see that other people have missed the mark of perfection and godliness. That is the mirror of the Law—to take a hard look into the truth of God, his word, and ourselves and realize that “all we like sheep have gone astray” and “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” “No one is righteous. No, not one.”

What is really kind of funny about this is that it is not even a prayer. The Pharisee is sending his resume to heaven. He is trying to get God to read his LinkedIn profile. He is commending himself to God. God is not impressed. Apparently, the Pharisee thinks that he can eat and buy his way into God’s good graces—that by fasting and tithing he can earn and deserve God’s love, acceptance, and blessing. It only saddens God that the Pharisee is so self-deceived. We have already spoken this truth together: “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. But if we confess our sins, God, who is faithful and just, will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

The tax collector won’t even stand close to the Holy of Holies. He is not even at the last pew but by the back door of the church because he knows he is an unworthy visitor. He won’t even look up to heaven because he knows that he does not deserve God’s attention. He beats his own breast; he is self-loathing because he does not just sin in thought, word, and deed. He is held captive by sin, shame, and guilt. Sin is not just the bad things we do; it is the good things we fail to do. And even worse than that. It is sin’s power that we cannot break free of by or own strength. All we can do is plead God’s mercy. “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” he prays. A right view of ourselves leads us to a right view of God. The Law that condemns us and our sin leads us exactly where God wants us to run—to the grace and mercy of God.

That is what sets the tax collector apart. It is truly prayer. He speaks truth about himself and his sinful condition. He speaks truth about God who is “good and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and mercy.” He tells God what God already knows—that he needs forgiveness, deliverance, and strength. And he asks God to do what God already likes to do—to extend his love to the undeserving and unworthy. Maybe the Psalm of the day at the temple that day was Psalm 51 (v. 17): “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.” Or as we sing: “Nothing in my hand I bring, simply to thy cross I cling. Naked come to thee for dress; helpless, look to thee for grace; foul, I to the fountain fly; wash me, Savior, or I die.”

At the foot of the cross, we are all the same. Our pride melts away at the terror of our sin and inability to redeem ourselves. That is why Christ gave his life for us. That’s why our compassion for others ought to overflow. That’s why he died and rose again—out of humility, compassion, mercy, and love.

“Wrestling with God” (Genesis 32:22-31)

Genesis 32:22-31

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Pastor Tom Johnson, October 16, 2016

Esau and Jacob are twins. Esau was born just minutes before Jacob. And as Esau came into the world, his twin brother Jacob literally had him by the heel. And so Jacob got his name—Yacób—which means to take someone by the heel. It is one of many wrestling moves. A fighter takes his opponent by the heel to bring him to the ground and subdue him. But it also means to deceive or trick someone—just as you might grab the heel of an unsuspecting passerby. And that is exactly how Jacob behaved his whole life. He tripped other people up. He was a trickster.

You will remember that he deceived his own father to steal his brother Esau’s blessing. Esau was so angry with his twin brother that he vowed to murder him. “Now Esau hated Jacob because of the blessing with which his father had blessed him, and Esau said to himself, ‘The days of mourning for my father are approaching; then I will kill my brother Jacob’” (Gen 27:41). To escape death, Jacob ran away from home. He was the prodigal son who was gone not for just a few years but enough time to have two wives and eleven children. He became rich through livestock.

But as you will also remember, he did not come by his wealth honestly. He tricked his uncle Laban in order to take his many sheep. Laban was so angry with Jacob, that Jacob runs away a second time—with his whole family and livestock. Jacob has an angry uncle behind him. Who knows if Uncle Laban wants to kill him? And then he finds out that his long-estranged brother Esau is ahead of him. He is between the proverbial rock and a hard place. Uncle Laban is coming up from behind and brother Esau is coming toward him. Thankfully, when Uncle Laban catches up to him, they are reconciled. The go their separate ways in peace—in large part because God intervenes.

But now what of Esau? He wanted to kill Jacob last time he saw him. He vowed to do it. That is when Jacob prays a prayer that will change his life forever: “O God…I am not worthy …Deliver me, please, from the hand of my brother…Esau, for I am afraid…he may come and kill us all, the mothers with the children. Yet you have said, ‘I will surely do you good, and make your offspring as the sand of the sea, which cannot be counted because of their number.” His sin is catching up with him. His deceitful past has haunted him for years. And now he may finally have to pay for all his misdeeds. “I am not worthy of your goodness and grace, O God,” he prays. Just as we prayed: “We are by nature sinful and unclean. We have sinned against you… We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We justly deserve your present and eternal punishment.” Jacob speaks truth. He is not worthy. Like him, we are not worthy of God’s goodness and his grace. And yet, Jacob asks for God’s forgiveness and deliverance. And he bases his request on God’s promise to bless his people.

Jacob does not just pray this prayer and go to sleep peacefully. He is restless. He cannot sleep. His anxiety gets the best of him. He pours out his worries upon his Lord and his God. He is literally fights for his life through prayer. He wrestles this “man” all night. Jacob knows he is also the One to bless him. Jacob persists. He endures the night. He finally gets the blessing he has prayed for. And then he realizes that he just had a tussle with God in human flesh. This is the amazing thing about our text—the great mystery of the One Jacob wrestled with. Jacob receives a new name: Israel. “He wrestles with God.” It is God in human form that he encounters.

Jacob—now Israel—can barely take it in. “I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.” No one should be able to survive an encounter with God. We should all turn to ash in the presence of him who is holy and almighty. Jacob—the one who deceives—is now Israel—the one who wrestles with God. He survives with a broken hip that will cause him to limp the rest of his life—a humble reminder of his night of prayer and struggle with God.

I love how this story ends. “The sun rose upon him…as he limped away.” His twin brother will not kill him. Esau will embrace and forgive him. Jacob’s deceitful ways are behind him. The new Israel moves forward in restored relationships. He will enter the Promised Land. It will not be an easy journey. He will continue to wrestle with God throughout his life. His limp will never go away. It will be a constant reminder that he is not worthy. But God accepts and loves him as he is. The sun is rising upon his future. The eternal Son of God came down to share the struggle with Jacob. God loses the wrestling match on purpose. Just as he will come again in human flesh to fight the good fight on the cross and appear to lose.

But just as the sun will rise upon Jacob, Christ will rise again from the dead. And so, we too, move forward in our life’s journey. We may be limping. But the sun’s light is on our faces. The Lord’s countenance is shining upon us.
We are on our way to restored relationships with God and one another. We are headed to our Promised Land. We may limp our way there. But we move forward in humility and by God’s strength. It is only by grace and his love that we fight the good fight and prayerfully move forward toward a new day as his people.

“Generational Faith” 2 Timothy 1:1-14

2 Timothy 1:1-14

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Pastor Tom Johnson, October 2, 2016

In our reading from 2nd Timothy, Paul is mentor, brother pastor, and Christian friend speaking to Timothy. Paul is thinking about the last time he saw Timothy and his tears. Grown men and women cry. And we can even talk and write about it. We don’t exactly know what happened that made Timothy unleash a torrent of emotion and cry on Paul’s shoulder. Was it the death of a loved one? Was it the betrayal of a friend? Was it discouragement in his ministry? We don’t know.

What matters is that Timothy was vulnerable enough with Paul to let him into the storm raging and tossing him around in his own heart and mind. Paul is like God in Psalm 56:8 who “keeps count of our tossing; puts our tears in his bottle, and stores them away in his archives.” Paul is like the God of Israel who hears the cries of his people crying out under the oppression of the pharaohs under hundreds of years of slavery. Timothy is vulnerable enough and courageous enough to weep before the Apostle to the Gentiles—the man who was knocked off his horse—the persecutor of the church who was blinded by the light of Jesus. And how does Paul address this unspoken emotional pain and spiritual turmoil in Timothy’s life? He commends Timothy for his sincere faith. Genuine faith does not live in denial of loss, pain, and sin. Authentic faith is humble enough to admit our weakness.

But here is the surprising twist to Paul’s encouragement—this sincere faith was not born in Timothy’s heart in isolation. This is the “faith that lived first in his grandmother Lois and his mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in Timothy.” “Remember your grandma Lois and mama Eunice, Timothy.” We often think of Paul as being the great expositor of doctrine and the theology of grace. And he is. But in addition to stringing together great words of truth about who Jesus is and what he has done for us, Paul also brings assurance of God’s presence and grace through reminders of the blessing of family. Paul either knows Lois and Eunice personally or he heard enough stories for them to come to mind and to know how great an impact they had on Timothy.

Can you picture Lois in your mind? The grandma who prays for her children and grandchildren. Granny who baked fresh bread and you could taste her love in her cooking. The one who lived through the war and whose faith was not shattered. She is the one who told stories so that we could all learn from them. And she always had time to listen to our struggles and give us perspective and give us hope. She had a living faith. She had a faith that was tested by fire and purified by wisdom. And mama Lois. She took the torch from her mother. She cast all her anxiety over young Timothy upon her Lord because she knew that God cared more for her son than she could ever love and care for him. Her faith was in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Her faith was in the God of Lois, Eunice, and Timothy. For God’s promise to Abraham was that all the families of the earth will be blessed (Gen 12).

When God reveals himself to Moses he shares the sobering truth that our sin will visit us until the third and fourth generation (Ex 34:7). Scripture has long acknowledged what we have only recently begun to understand through the study of genetics: families can suffer patterns of abuse, addiction, and illness across generational lines. Or like you sometimes hear people say, “The apple often does not fall far from the tree.”

But thanks be to God that he, in the same passage says, he is “the Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin.” God exponentially brings blessing, healing, and hope to us. Just as Peter on the day of Pentecost baptizes 3,000 people says, “This promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far away, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him” (Acts 2:39).

How can God encourage our hearts today? Remember that special grandparent or parent. Maybe she was an Aunt or a neighbor. Maybe that sincere faith was modeled to you by a member of your home church. Who was it who was a saint but also gave you permission to be a flawed human? Who was it that took a true interest in your faith journey? Who was it that loved you enough to give you an encouraging word when you needed it most? And who are the young Timothys, Eunices, and Loises around you? You have been placed in their lives to lead them to sincere and abiding faith. We are here together as partners in ministry. On the back of our bulletins it says our mission is to proclaim Christ, nurture faith, and serve others. It sparks in our homes, fans into flame in our houses of worship, and spreads like wildfire to bring hope, healing, and peace to the world. It celebrates sincere faith—that Jesus actually came from heaven to earth to save sinners—that he really did die on the cross to bring about the death of death, sin, and evil—and that he truly rose from the dead to assure us of his grace and presence.