“Greatly Disturbed” (John 11:1-45)

John 11:1-45

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“Greatly Disturbed,” John 11:1-45

Pastor Tom Johnson, March 29, 2020

The account Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead is about grief. It’s about Jesus and his disciples’ struggle with death. It is less about Lazarus coming to life again. It more about how Jesus leads us through the valley of the shadow of death. Jesus intentionally delays going to Lazarus who is very ill. Jesus says his illness will not lead to death but the glory of God and the Son of God. Jesus says Lazarus has fallen asleep. Jesus is not talking about death euphemistically. We have his assurance that when we die, we fall asleep in the cradle of God’s love and immediately wake up in the arms of our heavenly Father. Jesus tells his disciples that he is glad he was not there when Lazarus died, so that we may believe. He wants to strengthen our faith and trust in God. Jesus wants to show us what faith looks like in the middle of the storm of grief.

Martha is in shock. She is struggling with the reality of her brother’s death. She tells Jesus, “If you had been here, he would not have died.” Jesus says, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha says her hope is in the future resurrection. Jesus wants her to experience the power of the resurrection now. “I am the resurrection and the life—those who trust in me will live even though they die.” Mary comes to Jesus and says the same thing as her sister” If you had been here, my brother would not have died.” But this time, Jesus does not teach and lead with words. What happens next is truly remarkable. He leads with empathy.

Jesus leads with emotional vulnerability. When he sees Mary, her family, and friends all weeping, he is “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.” These words describe Jesus’ anger and deep emotional agitation. Jesus is fully human. Jesus’ anger—his righteous indignation—is not directed toward Martha, Mary, or those who are grieving. Jesus is furious with the tragedy and misery of death itself. Jesus just said, “I am the Resurrection and the Life.” Death is antithetical to his mission. And his fury and contempt is for evil and sin that rob us of life and living.

Yesterday, New York State Governor Cuomo was speaking to his national guard and expressed his rage that which seeks to consume life. “I say, my friends, that we go out there today and we kick coronavirus [in the teeth], that’s what I say.” This is all part of the package of grief and our struggle.

Jesus is “deeply moved.” In John’s Gospel, these words first describe the pool of Siloam whose waters were stirred up and agitated but were believed to have healing powers (John 5:7). Jesus emotions will be agitated again later in John’s Gospel when is troubled by the prospects of his arrest and crucifixion. And yet, despite his feelings of anguish, he reaffirms his mission to confront evil, sin, and death on the Cross (John 12:27). Jesus will be deeply moved and troubled again by the betrayal of his friend, companion, and disciple Judas (John 13:21). And then with those same words, Jesus will comfort us with those familiar words of John 14 (vv. 1-3):

Do not let your hearts be troubled—do not be overcome by anxiety, distress, or a distrubed spirit. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.

Lazarus’ death grieves Jesus—even though he knows what he is about to do. Jesus allows himself to feel and express his grief through anger and agitation. And then Jesus begins to weep himself. He is joining his tears to the tears of those whom he loves. He is not weeping over Lazarus. His sadness for those who suffer loss. Jesus outpouring of emotion is a song without words. He validates the full range of grief that we go through as humanity. Just as we look at tragedy unfolding around us and feel shock, sadness, distress, anxiety, guilt, anger, denial, hope, and acceptance. Jesus leads the way so that we will have confidence to follow.

Scripture says we have a high priest that meets us in our grief. “We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with us” (Heb 4:14-16). He is the incarnational God and friend of humanity who empathizes with us. Peter encourages us to pour out emotions upon God in prayer—to cast all our cares upon him—every worry, our disgust, our rage, our guilt and shame, our depression, and loneliness—all our concerns—because he cares for us. (1 Pet 5:7). God cares.

When people see Jesus’ outpouring of emotion. They get the message loud and clear. They say, “See how he loved Lazarus!” Yes! Look at Jesus’ love for Lazarus but also see his love for Mary, Martha, and all who grieve. See how much he loves you that he would risk releasing this flood of feelings and tears. This is not an Easter text or message. This is a message for us who are in Lent and still neck-deep in the struggle. Jesus tells them to take away the stone despite the stench. Jesus repeats his promise that if they trust him, the will see God’s glory.

“Lazarus, come out!” Jesus cries. “Unbind him from the burial strips of cloth,” he commands. And in so doing, Jesus not only unbinds Lazarus from the cords of death and the grave, he unbinds us from the fear and dominion of death itself. He unbinds us to feel—to express the full spectrum of human emotion.

“Faith in Uncertainty” (John 9:1-41)

John 9:1-41

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Pastor Tom Johnson, March 22, 2020

Jesus and his disciples were walking along when they see a blind man begging on the street. The disciples ask Jesus an offensive question: “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” This is the age-old question: Why? This is the oldest question in the Bible. In the book of Job, he questions God why he is suffering. He says, “What did I do to you…? Why have you made me your target?” (Job 7:20). It’s the last question of Jesus while he suffers on the cross: “My God, my God, why—why have you forsaken me?” Today we find ourselves as humanity facing the same global epidemic, the novel coronavirus Covid-19. The disciples looked at a man born blind and had the courage to ask. “Master, help us make sense of suffering.” “Why do bad things happen?”

Jesus could have scolded his disciples. What a horrible view of God! How dare they suggest that such hardship is due to sin? Would God punish newborns for their sins in the womb? Would God use the guilt of the parents to inflict suffering on their children? Jesus answers their multiple-choice question—who sinned? (a) The blind man (b) His parents—with (c) none the above. “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” It’s not the answer they ask for or want. It’s the answer they need.  “He was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” Though you do not see it now, God will reveal his work. Though you may not perceive it now, God is going to show up. Jesus promises good will come. He gives them hope in uncertainty.

What Jesus does next is bizarre, gross, and unsanitary. He spits on the ground. He retrieves his saliva united with the dust of the ground. He spreads its muddy mess into the blind man’s eye sockets. He tells the man to go and wash. And when he does, he can see. It reminds me of how we started out Lent—with ash and olive oil made into mud—no saliva I assure you! We smeared it on the foreheads in the sign of the Cross and said, “You are dust and to dust you shall return.” We were reminded of our mortality but also of the One defeats our sin, evil, and death on the Cross. It was a seasoned Pastor who once said, “When God blesses, things often get messy.” Perhaps it’s during times of greater uncertainty that hope and faith best emerge.

“We walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Cor 5:7). Because of this man’s blindness, we begin to see God work. God works in spite of the hardened hearts of the religious authority. He works around his parents who seem all too willing to throw their son under the bus. God works through the testimony of this man. I so admire his authenticity. When interrogated, he says, “I do not know” over and over again. He says, “I don’t know who the man who healed me is or where he came from or where he went. I don’t know how he did it. I don’t know why. All I do know is that I was blind and now I see.” What a powerful message! “I do not know.” I think it is the kind of humility and authenticity that should come out of our mouths when we talk about our faith. As the Irish rock band U2 says, “We need to get over certainty.” In their song “Stand Up Comedy” the lyrics say, “I can stand up for hope, faith, love But while I’m getting over certainty Stop helping God across the road like a little old lady.”

We are to give an answer for the hope that is within us (1 Peter 3:15)—not the certainty that eludes us. Nor do we need to be God’s defender, or prop him up with eloquent philosophy, or pretend that there are easy answers. “One thing I do know,” says this ancient beggar, “that though I was blind, now I see.” That is the joy we have—to simply share how our lives have been impacted by Jesus. We have witnessed the works of God. We don’t have all the answers. We don’t need to give the world certainty. But we can give hope—especially to a world experiencing suffering. Those same hands that smeared spit and dust into the eyes of the man born blind are the same hands that created all humanity out of the dust of the earth. God is the Potter. We are the clay. He re-creates us from the bottom up. He makes all things new.

We have asked God to give humility, kindness, and peace to our leaders here in this city, state, nation, and around the world. Perhaps it’s through this mess spread into our eye sockets that we will see ourselves as one, global community. Never has it been more clear just how woven together and interconnected we all are around the world. China, the epicenter of this disease, is now sending test kits and protective gear to Italy, Spain, Portugal, and France. Neighbors call and offer to get groceries for their elderly neighbors. How much more of an opportunity do we have as a church family to love our enemies and our global neighbors as ourselves.

We asked God to help our declining attendance in worship. God’s answer for the moment: not numerical growth but devastating decline—no one in attendance. Every pew is empty. Physical quarantine and distancing—it is not the answer we wanted. But we are already seeing the answer we need. Through holy Baptism, we wash the mud from our eyes and begin to see the world around with the eyes of the children of God. There is a growing realization and gratitude for community and social connection.

We have this epidemic smeared in our eyes. But our eyes are being opened to just how priceless being a community of faith is and how indispensable it is to be church family. As the psalmist says, “How good and pleasant it is for sisters and brothers to dwell together in unity!”(Psalm 133:1). We really do need each other. I can already feel and hear the joy that is coming when we can shake hands again and say, “The peace of the Lord.” I can already taste and see the joy we will share when we hand out the bread and wine—when we receive Christ’s true Body and Blood which assures us body and soul of forgiveness and life everlasting. We have the same hope of the man born blind thousands of years ago. No matter what is smeared into our eyes in the days ahead—through the uncertainty of it all, we will see that God is good…all the time. He is in the business of opening our eyes to the beautiful works he is doing all around the world.

“Living Water” (John 4:5-42)

John 4:5-42

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Pastor Tom Johnson, March 15, 2020

Jesus was tired and thirsty and sits at the well—Jacob’s well. You’ll remember that Jacob first met his wife Rachel at this well (Gen 29:10). It’s a place of social interaction—especially at the start and end of the day when it was cooler and would make the task of carrying large amounts water easier. So we know that the Samaritan woman was practicing social distancing. She came to draw water at noon—the hottest part of the day. She came at a time to minimize contact with others probably because she was an outcast of her own community.

Jesus breaks down all these social barriers and obstacles with her:

First, Jesus crosses geographic boundaries by crossing the border between Israel and Samaria.

Second, Jesus breaks the silence. He says, “Give me a drink.” He takes the first step toward connecting with this woman. It is his idea in the first place.

Third, Jesus leaves his comfort zone. He does not let physical exhaustion and thirst keep him from being the one who initiates this beautiful connection.

Fourth, he does not engage in prejudice. He crosses ethnic divides. Samaritans are considered worse than Gentiles because they had some Israelite ancestry. She is amazed: “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria.”

Fifth, he does not engage in racism or the abuse of power. He does not try to withhold goodness from her or drive her away. John writes the editorial comment, “Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.” Jesus discards this racial injustice. He wants to share an even greater water and a word of affirmation.

Sixth, Jesus tears down the dividing wall of gender. Jesus, a man, is talking to this Samaritan, a woman. Our text says Jesus’ disciples “were astonished that he was speaking with a woman.”

Seventh, Jesus overcomes the obstacles of the hidden mind and heart. Without hearing her story, he knows the thoughts and intentions of her heart. He knows all things. She says, “He told me everything I have ever done!”

These are all divisions that we human beings have created. We are the ones who draw lines on maps, do not speak or listen to each other, are scared to leave our comfort zones, have prejudicial attitudes, say and do racist things, discriminate against people based on gender identity, and disregard people’s personal stories. Jesus breaks down all these walls of apathy and hostility through one encounter with one human being on one hot and sweaty afternoon.  As Scripture says, in the Kingdom of God “there is neither Jew nor Greek, male nor female, slave nor free. We are all one” (Gal 3:28). He does this, not to socially reengineer and start a revolution. He does this to show us the way things really are. In God’s eyes she is not an outcast. She is special. She is God’s precious child.

Last year, the movie “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood” came out with Tom Hanks playing Fred Rogers known as Mr. Rogers from his children’s TV show. It is about a journalist, Lloyd Vogel, who has the reputation of digging up dirt on celebrities. He is assigned to interview Mr. Rogers. He fights his assignment. He promises to find something scandalous about him. He is a person filled with anger, resentment, and hardness of heart.  Mr. Rogers calls him. One of the first things he says to Lloyd over the phone is, “Do you know what the most important thing to me is in all the world right now? Lloyd Vogel. Talking to you.” What this jaded journalist learns is that Fred Rogers is not playing Mr. Rogers on TV. He authentically cares about people. Mr. Rogers really does live in the moment. He truly does pray and care about individuals even as a flawed human being.

That is how Jesus is toward each of you and me. “He told me everything I have ever done!” For all of us he leaves his comfort zone, takes out the time, appreciates the full spectrum of humanity, intimately knows each of our stories, truly cares, is not afraid to be seen with us in public, and loves each of us.  No where is this more clearly seen than on the Cross of Calvary. He leaves his heavenly throne to join the intricate fabric of humanity. He listens, learns, and cares. He is publicly disgraced and killed. He spreads his arms wide in loving acceptance and forgiveness and assures us of eternal life.

Strokkur, Iceland

These last weeks have been unsettling. Lord, help us in the midst of things that are difficult to understand to find your peace assurance of your love. Have mercy, Lord, on those who are sick and medical professionals all around the world. It is at times like these that we remember some universal truths. Humanity has a common enemy, the Coronavirus, Covid-19. It is no respecter of persons. It only wishes to self-replicate and will do so even if it disrupts, harms, and kills. It is just as we know as God’s children: evil is palpable. And so Jesus teaches us to pray, “Deliver us from evil—deliver us—our whole world—all humanity—from evil, sin, and death.” “Tear down these walls of hostility between us—divisions between people that we have created, not God.


God has brought us together as the human race. We can pull together intellectually, emotionally, spiritually and even as we practice social distancing. When Jesus says that he is the living water, he is not like a well which has water that needs to be drawn out. He is like a geyser—God’s grace bursting and gushing out into the world. Jesus the living water tears down every wall of hostility between us and between us and God. It is his idea. It is his joy. He brings us together under his banner of acceptance, peace, and love. And in him our hope will not be disappointed.

“Born of the Wind” (John 3:1-17)

John 3:1-17

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“Born of the Wind,” John 3:1-17
Pastor Tom Johnson, March 8, 2020

Jesus compares the Holy Spirit to the wind. In fact, it is stronger than a comparison. It is the same word. Pneuma. It is an onomatopoeic word—it’s a word that sounds like what it is. Pneuma. It means wind, breath, spirit. “The wind blows where it chooses,” Jesus says, “and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” So it is with everyone born of the spirit, the breath, the wind of God.

During the winter months, I still try to run outside as much as possible. I do not like the treadmill. But I have to dress for the cold if I choose to run outside. I’ve learned that the temperature outside only tells part of the story. Wind is another huge part of the equation. Meteorologists call it windchill. If the wind is strong enough it can make 30 degrees feel like 10 degrees. With each increment of 10 mile-per-hour of wind, I have learned to put on additional layer. But when I check the wind speed on my phone, it only tells me what the wind is doing at that moment. I may go out and feel little to no wind. Or it may be so strong it feels like I am going to be knocked over. There is no way to really predict what the wind will do. But its effects and significance cannot be underestimated. I have never gone sailing but I hear from experienced sailors that the same could be said for riding the wind on the water. The same could be said for airline pilots, air traffic control, and even rocket scientists. The wind can quickly change one’s take off, landing, and direction up, down, or to the right or to the left.

V = boat speed, H = head wind, W = true wind, A = apparent wind,
α = pointing angle, β = angle of apparent wind

Nicodemus is a rabbinical leader—a teacher of Israel. I believe Jesus is not scolding him but ribbing him when he says, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?” “You don’t understand the Spirit of God?” Nicodemus should remember that from the beginning in Genesis chapter one, God’s Spirit—which also can be translated as the Wind of God was over the waters when he said, “Let there be light” and breathed heaven and earth into existence. Nicodemus should remember that God breathed into the nostrils of Adam’s lifeless body and he became a living human being, created in the image of God. God parted the waters of the Red Sea by a strong east wind. God’s people escaped slavery and death when the Spirit blew a path forward to the promised land.

So it is with the Holy Spirit, Jesus says. You can hear the wind but you cannot see the wind. It is invisible. Even hearing it will not tell you exactly where it is coming from, where it is going, and how slow or fast it travels. It is the Spirit of God—his breath and wind that blows into our world to renew his creation. This teaches a lot of what it means to walk by faith and not by sight. We cannot say with certainty what the Holy Spirit is doing anymore than we can take a snapshot of the wind and know it’s activity. But we do know that the breath and wind of God’s Holy Spirit comes from Cross of Christ. Jesus himself says that he must be lifted up and will draw all people to himself. The wind comes from whatever direction and goes in any direction it wants. But the wind of the Holy Spirit is always grace-ward. The Holy Spirit is a person. He is free to blow wherever he chooses. But he is fanned into flame by the love of God and Jesus who dies to break the power of sin, evil, and death.  His mission to draw us to the Cross and then carry us up into heaven underneath the sails of our faith like Eagles’ wings. And the wings that catch the wind of the Holy Spirit are faith and prayer. Prayerful trust in God will lead us in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Our job is to respect the freedom of the Holy Spirit to go and do whatever he chooses. Our call is to trust in his goodness of continuing to breath life and faith into our lives.

On the day of Pentecost, the disciples were gathered for prayer and worship in the Temple. They did not know ahead of time that the Holy Spirit would come into their lives like a gale force and roaring wind that day. When the Holy Spirit showed up, he empowered them to speak the mighty works of God through Christ. The Holy Spirit gave them breath to share the good news of Jesus in all the diversity of languages and cultures in the world. He sent them out carried out by the wind of grace and joy beginning in Jerusalem, all Judea, Samaria, and even to the ends of the earth. This is the same Holy Spirit that blows into our lives like a gale force wind through his Word, Baptism, and the Lord’s Supper. He breathes his spirit into our nostrils, ears, mouths, and hearts so that we are never the same. We are born of the Spirit from above. We are reborn of the wind. We are renewed by the breath of God.