“We are the clay” (Isaiah 64:1-9)

Isaiah 64:1-9

Listen and watch sermon

Pastor Tom Johnson, November 29, 2020

I love the boldness of the prayer of the day: “Stir up your power, O Lord, and come!” During Advent we pray, “Come, Lord Jesus!” Our reading from Isaiah also begins: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!” In Isaiah, it is a prayer for God to leave his heavenly throne, rip a whole in the universe, step out of his timeless and eternal domain, enter into our world and time, and restore all that has been lost by war, injustice, and famine. I can’t help but think of our current global crisis. So many lives have been lost. So many jobs have been lost. There is so much conflict in our neighborhoods, between local, state, and national politicians, and between nations. There is real hunger and food insecurity in our nation and world. We have a global pandemic still surging. Do we have the same boldness to pray? “God, do something for our world! Get off your heavenly throne, come down, put terror into our enemies, fix what is broken, and bring your healing and peace.”

As Isaiah’s prayer continues, he begins to come to his senses. It’s a good example of how prayer can also be contemplative. He meditates on God’s Word. He begins to remember his own nature—and all of human nature. We are the ones that have messed everything up. We want God to fix what we have broken. Isaiah paints an image of our sin: we are all wearing blood-stained, filth-covered clothing because of our sin.  Our sin is not just what we do or fail to do. Our sin is like a hot, dry wind that causes our lives to fade, wither, and get blown away—like all the leaves we see at this time of year, scattered all around. Our transgressions make us unworthy

But then he remembers God’s character. He remembers that God has torn open the heavens and reached his mighty hand through to transform this world. But they are not hands grasping for mountains and waging war.  They are the hands of the Potter. His hands are covered with the dust of the earth and smeared with wet clay. “Yet, O Lord,” Isaiah prayerfully recalls, “you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.”  God took this formless void, spun it on its axis, and began to run his creative hands deep within its core to the outer rim. His hands formed the sea and the dry land. His hands dug out canyons and built mountains.  The Potter’s hands scooped clay out of the ground and formed Adam into his likeness. He breathed the Spirit of life into his nostrils and he became a living being. He was put in the garden which the Potter made. The fruit trees and vegetable plants were planted and potted into his nutritious soil. “You are our Father,” the clay remembers. In our prayers we bring to mind our true relationship with God. He is the one who made us and not we ourselves. He is our Creator first made by his potter’s hands. 

Last week, I saw a young potter in the window in my neighborhood. He has older-designed wheel that does not require electricity. He can spins the wheel at his own rhythm or slower speed by his foot-powered device. The potter throws down a formless chunk of clay into the middle of the stone wheel. He pedals it into motion. His arms are covered with dust from his elbows down to his wrists and hands.  As the clay spins, his fingertips are darken by the wet clay. He dips his fingers into muddy water. The tips of his fingers lovingly and artistically mold the clay from the bottom up, then from the top down. He expands the center and then chisels the excess clay off with his fingers like blades. The passion and pride is writ large on the potters face. The shapeless heap of earth becomes a useful vessel—a vase with perfect curves to display an array of flowers, a perfectly round plate to enjoy the bounty of the earth, a beautifully useful mug to share a hot drink and fellowship with a friend or loved one.

And so the prophet’s prayer concludes, “We are the clay. And you are our potter. We are all the work of your hand.” The change we long for has not yet come with sensational displays in the skies and the quaking of the mountains. It comes through God molding and shaping us into his instruments and vessels. Just as in the Lord’s first coming. He did not come in great cosmic displays but came into the flesh—out of the heart of the same earth you and I are made. He grew in stature before God and people, formed perfectly into the image of God.  

When Jesus comes back, he will crash through and roll back the heavens as one rolls back a scroll and restore all creation. But in the meantime, our prayers lead us back to what God has done and to what he is doing now. He restores through us. He is our Father. He is the potter. He has taken us out of formless void. He spins us through time at his own rhythms. With pride and joy, he lovingly runs his fingers through the core of our being. We will never be the same. Each vessel is unique—each of us a one-of-a-kind example of the Potter’s mastery, creativity, and love...each of us fearfully and wonderfully made. He dips his hands in baptismal waters. His fingers purge and flake off the imperfections and flaws by the water and the Spirit. He claims us as his children and himself as our Father. He stirs up his power and comes. He tears the heavens open to lovingly mold and shape us into the people of God he wants us to be. We are not only recipients of the Potter’s loving creation. We are also vessels for his glory and the restoration for which we have prayed. 

“Authenticity” (Matthew 25:31-46)

Matthew 25:31-46

Listen and watch sermon

Pastor Tom Johnson, November 22, 2020

Matthew chapters 24 and 25 is a sermon—Jesus’ last words before he is arrested that he spoke on the Mount of Olives. It’s why it’s called the Olivet Discourse. It answers the disciples’ question, “What will be the sign of the end of the age?" Jesus warns his disciples against those who say, “I am the christ.” Beware of the self-proclaimed messiahs who rise up after his death, resurrection, and ascension. Don’t go after them, Jesus warns. They will lead many astray. 

It may seem by the parable of the sheep and goats that on the last day, we will be judged by how kind we are to the poor and indigent people. It seems it does not matter what one believes. It seems that our salvation is based on our good works. This could not be further from the truth. Both the sheep and the goats identify as disciples of Jesus. Both the sheep and the goats are part of what theologians call the visible church—those we humans see as followers of Jesus. In this parable, the Good Shepherd sees what we cannot see. He knows the history and, more importantly, the hearts of these sheep and goats. He knows what they did. He knows why they did what they did. He knows their motive and hearts.

It’s clear from the context that the goats are those who are deceived into thinking they are true followers of Jesus. “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” “Truly I tell you,” Jesus says, “just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.” Instead, the goats followed the false messiahs. We know from history that after Jesus’ earthly ministry, false messiahs rose up. They led many to start rebellions war in order to liberate Israel from Roman occupation. Even Jesus’ disciples wanted to know after Jesus’ ascension if that was the time when he would restore the kingdom to Israel. Jesus says, “It is not for you to know...but you will be my witnesses” (Acts 1:6-8). From the beginning of Matthew in his sermon on the mount, Jesus said the church will be “persecuted for righteousness’ sake...they will revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.” (Matthew 5:10,11). The goats self-deception is due to their pride that they were faithful. But while true followers of Jesus were being persecuted, hungry, sick, and in prison, the goats were more preoccupied with living and dying by the sword and bringing in political liberation than they were nurturing the faith and lives of true believers.

I believe this parable is a warning to us as God’s people not to be seduced by the battles of worldly kingdoms around us. We should beware of those who politicize Christianity and Christianize politics. This is the spirit of the antichrist. We can deceive ourselves into thinking we are doing good for society, country, neighbor, and church by taking up these earthly battles. But, instead, we have strayed off into the way of the goats instead of following the Good Shepherd as his sheep. Jesus tells us again and again to take up our cross—not our swords.

The sheep and the goats is not about social ministry wherever we find our neighbor in need. There are plenty of Scriptures about taking care of the needy. This is not one of those Scriptures. This is about Christians caring for other Christians.  Our lives have been so deeply impacted by the Gospel of Jesus Christ that we unselfconsciously serve our sisters and brothers in Christ. “We love because God first loved us” (1 Jn 4:19). Or as Jesus says so pointedly says, “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (Jn 13:35). In other words, our minds are so saturated by Christ’s love for us as the family of God, we don’t even hesitate or have to think about reaching out to one another when we are in need. When one part of the Body hurts the whole Body suffers. 

This final parable before Jesus’ arrest, crucifixion, death, and resurrection is about how we are to live to the end. And how is that? With authenticity. We are to genuinely live out our faith knowing that we cannot fool God. He wants us to be so overwhelmed by his authentic love for us that we authentically love one another. We don’t even think about it, it’s so part of who we are as sisters and brothers and children of God. “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison?” Jesus’ answer: “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family you did it to me.” This is good news! Jesus’ sheep  know that they have not earned nor do they deserve forgiveness and eternal life. It’s a gift, by grace alone through faith. Christ  alone dies and rises again to secure our salvation. Here is an amazing truth: Jesus receives love from us when we authentically love one another.

During these days of the pandemic, we know our lives are secure in the hand of Christ our King. No one can snatch us out of his hand. He alone knows the number of our days. He is the Alpha and Omega. He knows our past, present, and future. He invites us into his Kingdom prepared since before the foundation of the world. The surpassing peace of Christ and comfort we have in the Gospel frees us to get our eyes off ourselves, to live in awe of his love for us, and to selflessly love and care for one another in authenticity. When the world sees how we care for one another and how our lives have been transformed by our faith in Christ, they will want to know more about this Jesus. This is how the sheepfold and family of God grows: more sisters and brothers in Christ who authentically love one another because of Christ our King’s love for us.

“The Joy of the Master” Matthew 25:14-30

Matthew 25:14-30

Listen and watch sermon

Pastor Tom Johnson, November 15, 2020

Jesus’ parable of the talents is a story of a master who goes away on a long journey. He leaves his three slaves behind. Each of them is given bags of money. A talent of silver would have been worth millions—a talent of gold tens of millions. We should remember that these are slaves. Jesus’ parable does not legitimize slavery as an institution. But it helps us understand the uniqueness of this particular master. He entrusts these slaves with wealth that would take lifetimes to earn. He goes on a long journey. When he returns, he calls them to account. The one he knew he could entrust the most yielded the most. The one who he could entrust the least yielded nothing. 

There was no stock market—no way to multiply wealth like this without creativity, ingenuity, and hard work. They would have purchased a business or started one up from scratch. The would have sown seeds, baked bread, mended tents, constructed boats—anything to earn money. When the master finally returns, those who invested, worked, and doubled the master’s wealth show their healthy pride and joy in faithfully serving their master. “Look, master, I made double of what you gave me!”

But there is the one slave who did nothing. He was the one entrusted with the least. The master knew his ability and character and lack thereof. And, yet, the master still is generous and entrusts a vast amount of wealth to him. But he merely buries this huge bag of gold in the ground. What if he died before his master’s return? His investment would be lost. He does not purchase a field, hire workers, or yield a harvest. He does not buy cedar from Lebanon to build homes. The only work he does is to dig a hole in the ground. He is indeed lazy.

He is indeed wicked. What is his defense when he is called to account? “Master, I knew you to be harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Take what is yours.” It’s not unlike humanity’s fall into sin when God shows up after they ate the forbidden fruit. Adam says, “The woman you gave me, O Lord…” Adam blames his disobedience on God and his wife! So the slave puts the blame on the master! That is what happens when we believe a lie—our actions—our inaction—flow from our unbelief and a lack of trust in the Master. He calls the master harsh. And, yet, we know the master was remarkably trusting and generous toward his slaves. 

He accuses the master of reaping where he did not sow. But where did the funds to purchase the field and the seed come from? Where did the money to pay the laborers who reaped come from? The master. He is the source of all this goodness. “So I was afraid,” says the lazy slave. Again, we see that the opposite of faith is not unbelief but fear. The slave should have trusted in the goodness of the master. Instead he is paralyzed by fear—fear based on a lie that maligned the master. 

I believe Jesus’ parable teaches us that character matters, integrity matters. What we do when think no one is watching matters. What we fail to do before Jesus comes back again matters. Scripture says, “Each of us will give an account” (Rom 14:12). Here is an alarming truth: there will be no faithfulness or productivity if we believe Christ our Master is harsh, greedy, and unfair. Bad works flow from a bad theology. You’ll remember the Reformer Martin Luther was so overwhelmed by his belief in a wrathful, demanding God that he said he hated God. We too will be paralyzed by fear… We will justify our laziness… We will blame God and not ourselves for our wickedness… IF we have a wrong view of God...if our view of the Lord Jesus, our Master is twisted and skewed...if we let fear overcome our faith...we will be held captive to our flawed imagination of God.

God’s gifts are there all along. The slave could have dug up the bag of gold at any time. He cheated himself out of participating in the rich work of the master’s kingdom. He could have taken the risk to act—to invest—to take a step of faith. God gave him riches to grow and bring him and the master greater joy. He accuses the master of being harsh, greedy, and unfair. But he just witnessed how the master treated his faithful slaves. He said, “You have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter the joy of your master.”

These are astounding words that describe the hope of our Lord’s return. God has invested millions—tens of millions of riches and grace into our lives. He calls them “a few things” compared to the “many things” of the life of the world to come. We will be rewarded exponentially for our faithfulness to God’s gifts by many more of God’s gifts. Our Master is not harsh but exceedingly and eternally generous.  Our courage to overcome our fears to utilize the gifts God has given us come from our confidence in his goodness and his faith in us. Our Master reaps what he sows through us—just as Paul said, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God caused the growth” (1 Cor 3:6).  He says to the faithful slaves, “Enter the joy of your master.” These are not words of a master to a slave—treated as property. These are words of affection and adoption. The Master treats them as heirs—as sons. 

So God invites us into the joys of our Master Jesus as children. Our Master was filled with joy even when he suffered and died for us to purchase the riches of forgiveness and eternal life for us. Scripture says it was “the joy that was set before him that he endured the cross” (Heb 12:2). Yes, we are accountable to God. But it’s not to paralyze us but energize us. We may need to dig up some of those gifts we have squandered and neglected. And then we invest the riches he has given us—trusting his goodness, love, and generosity. We live our lives in our baptismal adoption as children of God. The joy of the Master is always with us and eternally before us. We enter the joy of the Master when we participate in his Kingdom here with his riches. It is but a foretaste of the surpassing joy of the world to come—“what no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him” (1 Cor 2:9). When our Master returns, we will enter his joy once again—not at slaves but as his beloved daughters and sons as he welcomes us into his eternal home.

“Let Justice Roll Down Like Waters” Amos 5:18-24

Amos 5:18-24

Listen and watch sermon

Pastor Tom Johnson, November 8, 2020

The Old Testament people of God had a day that they were longing for—a day of fulfillment, a day of reckoning, and a day of completion. This day is a day Amos calls “the Day of the Lord.” The day they were longing for was a day of preservation and salvation for them and them alone. It was a day of political victory—a day when all enemies are annihilated by Messiah and enjoy peace.

God says to them, “Why? Why would you desire such a day? Why do you desire a Day of the Lord of that sort? It is a darkness, and not a light. It is gloom with no brightness in it.” As the people of God, they should have longed for and worked for the day when they would fulfill Abraham’s promise “that all nations—all the families of the earth shall be blessed through them” (Gen 12). Instead, they wanted an end to the troubles the surrounding nations caused. They wanted mere political liberation. They wanted Messiah to come with his sword and cast fire, smoke, and judgment on their oppressors. But this is not who Messiah is. Jesus, true Messiah, commands us to pray for our enemies, not hope for their demise. Jesus calls us to love our enemies, not celebrate their impending doom. The truth is that we all have common enemies—sin, evil, and death. Jesus comes to bring salvation and justice for all people.

If our faith is merely about whom we are against and not whom we are for, God says he hates our outward religion. “I hate, I despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies.”  Why? Because we are only concerned about our own self-preservation. We only want an end of our troubles. We only long for an escape from this broken world. It is self-centered and selfish. The golden rule—the royal law is to love our neighbors as ourselves. As Jesus put it, we are to love others as he has loved us.

You’ll remember that Jesus said in his sermon on the mount that if you are offering your gift at the altar and remember that your sister or brother in the Lord has something against you. Leave your gift there and first be reconciled to that person. Then come back and offer your gift (Matt 5:23,24). As Scripture says in 1 John (4:20): “Those who say, ‘I love God,’ and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen.” It’s a disturbing thought: God does not want us to pretend that everything is great with our relationship with him if our relationships with one another are broken. We may be only fooling ourselves. God sees through our phoniness. If our prayers and our worship and our offerings are about self-preservation and self-righteousness, God is not impressed. 

The great commandment is for us to love God with our whole being—to do so with authenticity. Because the other command, that cannot be separated from that one, is to love our neighbor. And so God says, “let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream!” God wants to cultivate justice in the world. He wants justice and righteousness flow out of his people and church now. The Reformer Martin Luther said of the command You shall not murder, “We should fear and love God so that we do not hurt or harm our neighbor in his body, but help and support him in every physical need.” Jesus spent his life bringing healing, good, and hope to the world in his earthly ministry. So we should care about the hungry, poor, downtrodden, victimized, and those treated unfairly. We cannot do it all. There will not be full justice until he returns. But God does call for us to collectively do our part as his people.

We need to guard ourselves from two extremes. One extreme is what we see in our text: to be so preoccupied with ourselves and spiritual lives that we despise or neglect the plight of those around us. The other extreme is to be so concerned about social justice that we neglect true worship and nurture in the Word of God. God’s prayer—his desire—is for us to be a part of the outpouring of his goodness. He wants us to channel the flood of his grace and mercy he pours out to the world. He wants to saturate the whole earth with his forgiveness, life, and salvation. Peter says in his epistle that “The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance” (2 Pet 3:9).  We don’t long for judgment. We long for forgiveness, life, and salvation for the whole world. “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream!”

God wants us to experience the flood of baptismal waters that wash away the filth and the guilt of our sins. But he also wants those baptismal waters to break out into the world beyond our walls. As the prophet Habakkuk writes (2:14): “the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.” He wants his love, grace, and mercy to have a global impact. “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream!”

“Blessed are the meek” Matthew 5:5

Matthew 5:1-12

Listen and watch sermon

Pastor Tom Johnson, November 1, 2020

Blessed are the meek. The meek are the lowly, the powerless, the humble, the unassuming, the gentle. These words expose and challenge the way of the world—especially during this election season. Politicians insult one another, call each other names, and do and say whatever they can to elevate themselves and persuade you to vote for them. This is not the way of the meek, the lowly, the humble, and the gentle. Sadly, they are a reflection of us. Our friendships are strained. There’s a trail of casualties in our social media. Family dread to gather around the Thanksgiving table not just because of the viral pandemic but the epidemic of pride, partisanship, and self-righteousness. We need a lot more meekness in this world. 

Meekness is wisdom. Meekness acknowledges that we are mere mortals—not gods. Meekness humbly recognizes that God is ultimately in control. In the midst of the chaos and confusion of this world, meekness is awareness of where true power resides—in God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Meekness is not weakness. It is courage. It takes strong character—strengthened by God’s Spirit and his Word—to admit that we have fallen short of the glory of God. We have all sinned. We are not the best, the greatest, the most, the first. It is not those with the right pedigree, the entitled, but the meek who will inherit the earth. Meekness is not weakness. It wisely and courageously admits our own weakness, flaws, and—most importantly—our powerlessness in and of ourselves. The meek know we need a savior—someone to deliver us from evil, sin, and even ourselves. Meekness is not weakness. It acknowledges that God loves all people—every tribe, nation, tongue, and people. It is not all about me. Meekness puts God first, others second, and ourselves third. Meekness and empathy go hand in hand.

Hundreds of years before Jesus’ earthly ministry, the philosopher Aristotle said of meekness. “The meek are strong. They stand firmly balanced between apathy and excessive anger—between cowardice and recklessness.”

Jesus says the meek are the faithful—the faith-filled. Their confidence and trust is not in self or even in the “better angels” of our humanity. Their faith is in God almighty creator of heaven and earth. 

We should go to the polling station or send in our ballots in meekness. God has got this—even if our candidate loses. Our inheritance will not be jeopardized by anyone or anything. Nothing and no one can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus. Meekness realizes that our prayers accomplish more than our ballots. Please vote! But don’t forget to pray! Scripture commanded those oppressed by the Roman government to pray for the Roman emperor and again for monarchs and all those in authority (1 Tim 2:2). Proverb 21:1 says, “The king’s heart is a stream of water in the hand of the Lord; he turns it wherever he will.” God alone can change the hearts of our leaders to better serve him and to better serve those to whom they are called.

Meekness open us up to come to Jesus in our weariness, weakness, and worries. “Come to me,” he says, “all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle—meek (same word!)—and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Jesus calls himself meek and humble. The eternal Son of God left his heavenly throne to take on our humanity. The Lord of glory was born as a lowly child in a manger—meek and mild. 

Jesus did not rise to the top through insults, violence, and fear-mongering. He humbled himself. He was meek. He empathized with the lowly, healed the sick, and brought comfort to the anxious. He courageously took upon himself the burden of sin, evil, and death even though he did not deserve it. He wisely knew that only he can raise us up and deliver us from evil. His meekness is not weakness. As the saints in heaven sing: “Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever.” To him be all glory alone. He is the best, the greatest, the first, the last, the Alpha, the Omega—King of kings and Lord of lords. And he is all those things for us—to raise us up—to bless us. “Blessed are the meek for they will inherit the earth.” Our inheritance is now. In Christ’s Kingdom we have all the benefits as daughters and sons of God. God’s kingdom is filled with the meek. They know they were sinners made saints—washed in the blood of Lamb. All credit goes to our Savior in eternal worship.

When Jesus returns in all his glory—or we precede him in our deaths—we enter a new reality. He makes all things new. He does not come to destroy the earth but renew it, recreate it, and make it perfect.  And he does not do so to hoard it for himself but to bless us with it—so that we inherit all the goodness and beauty of creation. It is a spiritual inheritance of forgiveness and eternal life. And it is also true justice and peace and a remaking of this world into the way things are meant to be. And so we raise up our voices for his glory and for the benefit of all creation. We lift him up in our voices, hearts, and lives because he first raised us up to enjoy him forever.