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Sermons, articles, and occasional thoughts from Pastor Tom Johnson


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Monday, November 29, 2021

“Face to Face” (1 Thessalonians 3:9-13)

1 Thessalonians 3:9-13

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Pastor Tom Johnson, November 28, 2021

In Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians, he says, “Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you face to face and restore whatever is lacking in your faith.” He ends with prayer that their hearts would be strengthened for the coming of Christ. He prays for face to face time with each other and with Jesus. This is a good time for us to understand why Paul would pray day and night to be in-person with God’s people. Long before telegraphs, telephones, texting, and video conferencing, written letters were the closest thing to human interaction from a distance. But for Paul a letter is no substitute. They are separated by many miles. He longs to hear their voices. He longs to see their faces and body language. He longs to smell their freshly baked bread and taste the wine together as they share Holy Communion with one another and with the risen Christ. He prays that a door will open so that he may travel the distance that separates them. It will take days and maybe weeks to make the journey. But it is worth the effort and risk he takes to be reunited with his sisters and brothers in Christ. Many of us just made long journeys to see family for thanksgiving and to share a meal with family and friends. This weekend, airports were the fullest they have been since the beginning of the pandemic. There is a very human longing we have to share time and space with those we love even if just for a few hours or days.

Seeing someone’s face can be a powerful thing. Having our faces seen can be a vulnerable thing. With our faces we display a full range of emotion. Human beings are experts at reading the countless expressions that reveal our thoughts, emotions, and mood. It is even true with our masks on. Have you had the experience of smiling at a baby with your mask on? They may not see your teeth but they will see your smile wrinkles—especially around the eyes. You will likely get an unmasked smile in return. We read each other’s faces to see if we are friend or foe. We show our countenances to show our love and express our care and concern. We show our countenances to reveal our disregard. We hide our faces to conceal our shame and guilt. We hide our faces to deny others acceptance and leave them cold. In the Christian Church, we should nurture a safe place where we can, as Paul says, restore each other’s faith and strengthen each other’s hearts in preparation for the Lord’s return. It is as easy and as difficult as just showing up. As the psalmist says, “Behold, how good and pleasant it is when sisters and brothers dwell together in unity” (Psalm 133:1). As the writer of Hebrews says, “we should not not neglect to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encourage one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching” (Heb 10:25). For the first time in our lives, we were prohibited from gathering together because of a viral pandemic. The omicron variant threatens our coming together again. I’m not going to lie; it’s getting old and wearisome. But we also take heart.

One good that God has brought out of this is a reminder—a painful reminder—of just how much of a gift Christian community is. This face to face time is called koinonia which can be translated as sharing, fellowship, or participation. Scripture tells us that when we greet one another we do so with a holy kiss. The love, acceptance, and longing on our faces is sacred. Because on our faces we see the face of Christ. We don’t just serve a cup of cold water human to human. Christ in us and through us serves Christ in and through one another. Paul prays day and night that he will see his Christian family in Thessalonica and that their hearts will be strengthened for the Lord’s return. Do you see the connection between our longing for one another and for Christ? It is inseparable. If we do not long to be together as God’s people, how can we claim to long for our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ? Scripture says, “Those who say, ‘I love God,’ and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love those they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen” (1 Jn 4:20).

Our koinonia together is a foretaste of the koinonia to come. The moment you stepped into this sacred space, we have received the gift of Holy Communion. It continues through the spoken and sung Word of God. The sheep hear the Shephard’s voice. We receive his Body and Blood in this Sacred Meal. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known” (1 Cor 13:12). When Jacob wrestled with God and received his name Israel, “he called the place Peniel, which means ‘Face of God,’ saying, ‘For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved’” (Gen 32:30). It is in our wrestling with God in prayer together that we encounter God. Jesus is the face of God. We are the face of Christ.

At the end of this service, we will be sent out into the world to show the face of Christ through our service and proclamation. We go out into the world to reflect the light of Christ and be the face of Jesus to a world desperate for acceptance, love, and hope. And we are sent out with those familiar words: “The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make His face shine upon you and be gracious unto you. The Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace” (Numbers 6:22–27). In the first coming, the eternal Son of God takes on our humanity. And so Jesus is rightly called “the face of God.” In Christ we see the love Triune God has for all his creation. In his countenance we see compassion, acceptance, and love. The face of the resurrected Christ shines more brightly than the midday sun. He has lifted his countenance favorably toward us in the Gospel. That is why we call our worship together real presence. We see, hear, touch, smell, and taste that the Lord is good. He will never forsake us or leave us as orphans. We have Christ in one another and his gifts. We have Jesus who says, “Lo, I am with you always even to the end of the age” (Matt 28:20). 

Monday, November 22, 2021

“King Jesus” (John 18:33-37)

John 18:33-37

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Christ the King statue, Ĺšwiebodzin, Poland

Pastor Tom Johnson, November 21, 2021

The year was 1925. Italy was in the third year of the totalitarian rule of Benito Mussolini who was ready to crush any intellectual or political opposition. Mussolini himself coined the term “fascism.” This was the year that Pope Pius XI created a new motto for his own office: “The Peace of Christ in the Reign of Christ.” And it was the same year that he established the Feast of Christ the King which we celebrate today. Sadly, Mussolini was just the beginning of a global movement of fascism that spread to Germany, Japan, Austria, Brazil, and many other nations leading up to World War II. Some would say that it continues to spread today. Pope Pius the XI was alarmed by the rise of any human power that challenged the authority and reign of Christ’s love and peace. And so the Lutheran Church along with many other protestant denominations adopted this same yearly reminder that Jesus is the King of kings and Lord of lords. 

In John chapter 18 we have a remarkable record of a conversation between Jesus and Pontius Pilate—whose name is included in the Apostles’ Creed. Jesus “suffered under Pontius Pilate.” But before Jesus suffers under a whip, a thorny crown, mockery, and nailed to a Roman Cross, Jesus first tries to explain to Pilate the difference between the kingdoms of this world and the Kingdom of God. Jesus witnesses to this truth. And here it is helpful to understand the origin of the word truth. It means unconcealedness, disclosure, or revealing. It is not too different from the word revelation which is also written by John of his vision of the truth that is spiritual, transcends this world, and reveals the universal reign of Christ.

Jesus says, “My Kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting.” Jesus’ Kingdom is like nothing the world has ever seen. Christ’s Kingdom originates from outside this universe. The Ancient One’s Kingdom is eternal. It has no beginning. It will have no end. Wherever the King is, there is the Kingdom. When Jesus was born in Bethlehem, that was the eternal Son of God coming into the world. Jesus says, “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.” It is just a verse later that Pontius Pilate asks, “What is truth?” It shows that he does not get it. He cannot imagine a world where the Emperor of Rome is not supreme leader. Pilate is there to ensure that no one challenges Rome’s reign. The truth is that Pilate is a pawn of the Roman Empire. He is more concerned with his popularity than he is in doing the right thing. He is also a pawn of the mobs who wanted to crucify Jesus. Pilate, the Romans, the Jewish people, and the whole world has only known imperialism, nationalism, and tribalism. This is the way of the world when Jesus talked to Pilate. It was that way in 1925. And it is the way of the world today. We get so caught up in our own self-preservation and prosperity that we lose sight of God’s global Kingdom. God commands us to love our neighbors as ourselves. In the age of globalism, it is more evident than ever that all nations are our neighbors.

Scripture says that as believers our citizenship is in God’s Kingdom (Philippians 3:20). We are ambassadors of a greater Kingdom to extend God’s love to the world. We are sojourners traveling through this world to our eternal home. Like Jesus, we should be able to say, “My Kingdom is not of this world.” “My King is not of this world.” But my King and his Kingdom has come into this world to transform this world by the reign of his love. And, like him, we are also called to be in the world but not of the world. Jesus is our King leading the way for us to navigate this world. It is a high calling for all of us to rise above our nationalism. The United States of America is not the only nation on the map; nor is it the only nation God deeply cares about. He is God of every, tribe, nation, tongue and people.

As God’s people, we should recognize the futility of partisan politics. To say that one political party or another is sanctioned by God contradicts Jesus’ word today when he says, “My kingdom is not of this world.” Today, nations still wage war against one another militarily, economically, and culturally. There will be no end to the political differences we see in this country. Even our self-interests seem to be more important than the health of the planet we share as we pollute and exploit God’s creation to our own collective peril. This is a great challenge. But it is also a magnificent opportunity. Who else but the people of God know universal and global love for all creation? Who else is there but the ambassadors of Christ’s Kingdom to extend reconciliation with God and with one another? We speak the truth because we belong to the truth. We are not our own. Our forgiveness and place in Christ’s Kingdom have been purchased by our King’s blood. We extend the reign of God’s love to others because he has first extended his reign of love to us. 

Yea, amen, let all adore Thee,
High on Thine eternal throne;
Savior, take the pow’r and glory,
Claim the kingdom as Thine own.
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!
Thou shalt reign, and Thou alone!

     (“Lo! He Comes with Clouds Descending,” LSB 336 v. 4)

Monday, November 15, 2021

“Impermanence” (Mark 13:1-8)

Mark 13:1-8

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Pastor Tom Johnson, November 14, 2021

As they’re leaving, one of the disciples says, “Look, Teacher! Look at those large stones and buildings!” The historian Josephus said that the temple was covered with great plates of gold and glistened in the sun from a distance like a burning jewel. The temple was as tall as a 15 story building that could accommodate thousands of worshipers at a time. It was twice the size of the largest temple enclosure in Rome. It was truly impressive. So one of the disciples says, “Look, Teacher!” To which Jesus replies, “Do you see—do you see these great buildings?” Jesus does not just see what is and what was; he sees what is to come. And what is to come is the complete destruction of the temple about 40 years later.

Leading up to the destruction of the temple there are wars, earthquakes, and famines. And in the year AD 70, Roman troops invade Jerusalem, seize the temple, set it on fire, and the vast amounts of gold melt into the stone. The Roman soldiers turn every stone to harvest the gold. Not one stone is left on another. This passage is not about the end of the world but the end of the Temple in the year AD 70, about 40 years after Jesus’ prediction, his death, and his resurrection. This tragic and painful event will disperse the church and spread the Gospel. These birth pangs will lead to give birth to and grow the Kingdom of God—a new Temple not made by human hands. The cornerstone of this new Temple will be the crucified and risen Jesus Christ, the foundation laid by the prophets and the apostles, and you and I are the living stones. This Temple will never be destroyed. Jesus is not trying to cast a shadow over the disciples’ joy and wonder of those magnificent buildings. He is pointing to the impermanence of worldly greatness. He is also talking about the birth of something far greater that will have no end.

This is a great thing for us to gaze at and ponder on this stewardship Sunday. It is a lesson that First Saint Paul’s has had to learn many times in our 175 years. Our church building was destroyed in the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. We saved the church records and the wooden angel. But more importantly, we as a community of faith bonded together to rebuild and grow together as the people of God—the Temple of the Holy Spirit. We purchased a Jewish synagogue 39 years later in 1910. We changed buildings but we were the same church family. In 1970 we dedicated this building. In our 175th anniversary moment, it mentions that there was “no little amazement at the sparkling new church” when it was built. During the pandemic, I personally have grown in my love for the simple and profound beauty of this sacred space.

It may have been a bit unsettling or even alarming for the disciples to hear about the impermanence of the Temple—that what they were so in awe of could so easily come tumbling down. It reminds us that the people of God in Jerusalem were not owners of the temple nor was the temple something that they would enjoy forever. They were stewards of a temporal gift. The temple was there to point them toward a greater reality. This should be a humbling reminder for us not to be so caught up in our earthly achievements. The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod used to be the second largest church body in the city of Chicago. One hundred years ago, this was a very German Lutheran city. Today we are a small remnant—a shadowy reflection of a more glorious past. This is true across our whole nation. As the number of Americans have grown, not just Lutherans but the whole Christian Church has been in a steady decline—especially in Europe and the Americas. The only place the church has been growing is in Africa and Asia.

The real tragedy is when we are fixated on our self-preservation and the legacy of our institutions and not the proclamation of the Gospel and the Christian Church that has no walls, borders, or denominational structure—just Christ as our head. As the prophets say in the Old Testament, “The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of the Lord stands forever.” As Solomon prays at the dedication of the first Temple, “Will God indeed dwell on the earth? Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house that I have built!” 

Jesus’ words about the impermanence of our human institutions should not lead us to despair but perspective. As we look at this beautiful masonry work around us with its gentle curves, sloping floors, and hypnotic pattern of empty spaces between the brick above the altar. It makes me think of the very uncommon array of sisters and brothers, each of us woven together with our own angles, drawing our our eyes to Word and Sacrament, with always room for more to join us. We should give thanks to God for such a gift. But we should also remember that we are stewards of something far more precious than gold, silver, stone, cedar, and Chicago common brick. We are stewards of the Good News that no earthly or spiritual power can take away. That is what we are supporting with our time, talent, and treasure—the work of the Kingdom. So we should not neglect coming together as the writer of Hebrews says. Even after the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, members gathered at our building’s charred remains to mourn their loss but also bind their prayers and hearts together in hope. 

What binds us together is not the mortar of these bricks but the unconditional love of Triune God who created us, redeemed us, and sanctifies us. As Scripture says, “[we] are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, to proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” “He who promised is faithful.” God promises to give birth to us, prosper us, and preserve us through all calamities. The pain of our suffering is but the birth pangs to do something new and greater just as Jesus suffered, died, and rose again to make all things new. We give our time, talent, and treasure to God and to this church family—not to impress passers-by with our brickwork. We do so for the growth and nurture of the Kingdom. Our mission is not to make an architectural statement but to proclaim Christ, nurture faith, and to serve others. Here is the really humbling and exciting thing: God will do this with or without this building; but it is his joy and plan to do so through us and all our gifts. 

Monday, November 8, 2021

“He who promised is faithful!” (Isa 25:6-9; Rev 21:1-6)

Isaiah 25:6-9
Revelation 21:1-6

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Rev. Peter K. Lange, LCMS First Vice-President
November 7, 2021 — 175th Anniversary
First St. Paul’s Lutheran Church – Chicago, IL

Dear saints, gathered for this feast today at First St. Paul’s Evangelical Lutheran Church—Chicago, Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ!

God’s Word for our consideration on this All Saints Sunday, and 175th anniversary celebration of this congregation, are the Old Testament and Epistle readings we’ve heard.

We’ll get to those in a few minutes, but first I’d like to tell you about a man named Frederick and his family.

It was May 5, 1891 and it was his wedding day! He was being united in holy marriage to Nellie, whose father had come from Germany and whose mother was born in Buffalo Grove. Their wedding was at First St. Paul’s Lutheran Church (at Franklin and Superior, in Chicago), and their pastor was Rev. Henry Wunder who had been pastoring the congregation for 40 years by that time. When Pastor Wunder’s ministry ended 22 years later, the church records would show that he married 5,062 couples(!), baptized 17,350 of their children, and buried 6,361 dear saints of this congregation. 

The church building itself (on the corner of Franklin and Superior) was quite new, because the original building at that location had been destroyed 20 years earlier by the Great Chicago Fire. Franklin and Superior was actually the second location for First St. Paul’s, the previous being on Grand Avenue, between Wells and Franklin. And, before that even, the founding members of this congregation worshipped with other German Protestant immigrants at the corner of Ohio and LaSalle, which is where the founding meeting for the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod was held 175 years ago this coming April.

As Frederick stood before the altar on that spring day, a 23-year-old man, he really didn’t remember much about that Great Fire 20 years earlier, that killed 300 people and destroyed 17 ½ thousand homes, including many from the congregation, and including his own family’s home just southeast of Goose Island. Frederick’s mother Anna was great with child that night of the fire and yet had to flee west with her husband John to escape the flames that were moving north and east. They found a safe barn where Anna gave birth to a daughter, Katie, just eight days after the fire.

Frederick’s father John, a milk distributor, had come to Chicago from northern Germany (near Rostock) 14 years before the fire, just nine years after that fateful congregational meeting which Pastor Selle and four other members left to form First St. Paul’s—a congregation that pledged faithfulness to the Scriptures as confessed in the Lutheran Book of Concord of 1580. John was 17 when he came to the U.S. along with his mother Mary and several siblings. All-in-all Frederick’s father John would be affiliated with First St. Paul’s for 62 years before he was buried from this congregation by Pastor Kowert, in 1919. By that time (1919) the congregation had moved to its third location—this present site—moving into a former Jewish synagogue in 1910… a building that served the congregation until this present one was dedicated in 1969.

Little did Frederick know, on his joyous wedding day, that he and his beloved bride would be blessed with seven sons, the fourth of whom was Wilburn who was baptized on July 9, 1906 by Pastor Wunder. As a grown man Wilburn would be Superintendent of the Sunday School here at First St. Paul’s, a Sunday School that in the year of Wilburn’s confirmation by Pastor Kowert had 300 students!

In 1934, Frederick, this proud father of seven sons, would receive his crown of eternal life and be buried from First St. Paul’s by Pastor Kowert. His dear wife Nellie would survive him by three years and also be buried from First St. Paul’s. (The cemetery for all these generations of Frederick’s family was the Rosehill Cemetery, as the family had moved north about the time of World War I.) 

But before Frederick would fall asleep in Christ, he would witness the marriage of his fourth son Wilburn to Marie Borchardt of Bethany Lutheran Church here in Chicago. Wilburn and Marie were very active at First St. Paul’s… with Wilburn serving, not only as Sunday School Superintendent, but also as an elder and usher. Marie sang in the church choir with Professor Beck, later recounting a Christmas party at his home in River Forest. The Lord blessed Wilburn and Marie with three children, the second of whom is my mother.

Finally, in October 1945, Wilburn moved his family to Algonquin, IL taking with him the fifth generation of Lettos to be associated with First St. Paul’s.

The congregation continued on, ministering to new mission fields and new ethnic groups whom the Lord brought to its changing neighborhood. And that brings us to today, celebrating 175 years of life together and ministry for the people of First. St. Paul’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Chicago.

My family story, as it intertwines with First St. Paul’s, isn’t unique. There are many such stories for First St. Paul’s and for every congregation of saints gathered around pulpit and altar. Each of your families has a similar story, even if not fully chronicled. And future generations will include us in their stories.

I tell this story because it provides a unique window into the 175-year story of First St. Paul’s, but also because it’s the story of saints… everyday saints… saints among the untold number for whom we give thanks on this All Saints Sunday… men and women, boys and girls who are saints not because they were more sinless than you or me… not because they were “family,” not because they were part of a nostalgic, bygone era… but because they were made saints by the Holy One himself who loved them, as His heavenly bride, “and gave Himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish” (Ephesians 5). 

The theme for this 175th anniversary celebration is, “He who promised is faithful” (from Hebrews 10:23). And the Old Testament reading for this All Saints Sunday records one of those promises of God, through His prophet Isaiah, who looked ahead during Israel’s time of exile from Mount Zion in Jerusalem, and promised those suffering saints:

On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine, of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well refined. And he will swallow up on this mountain    the covering that is cast over all peoples,  the veil that is spread over all nations.  He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken. It will be said on that day, “Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.”

One of the interesting (and sometimes frustrating) things about Old Testament prophecies is that it’s hard to pin down a single place or time that the prophet is talking about. What “mountain” is Isaiah referring to here? When will all these wonderful things take place? And what is “that day” of which the prophet speaks?

On All Saints Sunday our thoughts are appropriately raised heavenward as we think of our loved ones who have died in the faith and are now with the Lord, awaiting the resurrection of the body, and the full number of the elect to join them around the heavenly throne. We think of them and we look forward to joining them and to the fulfillment of God’s promise that we heard in today’s Epistle reading, from Revelation chapter 21, that at the Lord’s final coming He “will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” God has promised that for those who die trusting in Jesus as their Savior from sin. And He who promised is faithful! 

So “this mountain” of which Isaiah speaks, and “that day” is ultimately heaven—the new Jerusalem of Revelation 21. But it’s also, in a preliminary sort of way, the time of Christ, the New Testament Church in which the Lord already gives His eternal gifts—“spreads a feast of rich food” as it were—because of His suffering, death, and resurrection, even though those gifts are not yet fully revealed and are still given, in this life, against the backdrop of the consequences of sin. 

And so, those who have died in the faith (including our loves ones), knew well the tears of this life. Think of the tears shed at the massive loss of property in the Chicago fire, or the loss of livelihood (and often self-esteem) resulting from the Great Depression. Think of the tears that attended the thousands of funerals in this congregation alone! And yet, by His death and resurrection, the Lord has swallowed up death forever! He destroyed its permanent grip by paying with His own life the price of death for sin. And so, because of Jesus Christ and His atoning work, the promises that will be fully revealed in heaven are revealed to the eyes of faith already now, so that even today—in the midst of hardship and tears—the Lord God wipes away tears from our faces (by His Gospel promises) and gives us a faith-filled reason to say, “Let us be glad and rejoice in His salvation!” 

What is more, “on this mountain”… that is, in His Holy Christian Church, in congregations such as First St. Paul’s, the Lord of hosts makes “for all peoples a feast of rich food and a feast of well-aged wine.” It’s a feast for “everyday saints,” like you, whose stories will be recounted by future generations. Saints who are saints, not because of how holy and sinless you are, but because your Heavenly Bridegroom has made you saints by the washing of water with the Word in Holy Baptism.

In this place the Lord of hosts already today prepares a feast of rich food. It’s a feast of the preaching of His precious Gospel, the assurance that God forgives you all your sins because of His Son Jesus Christ who gave His life into death on a cross in payment for the sins of the whole world. And it’s a feast of this very Bread of Life Himself who gives His body and blood to us as a foretaste of the eternal Feast of Victory that awaits us in heaven. All Saints Day is about the saints in heaven, to be sure, but it’s also about you, His saints on earth today, who are blessed in your mourning, and poverty of spirit, and every other seemingly lowly condition, because you are Jesus’ own by faith, and you have His promises, and He who promised is faithful! 

And remember that this feast that the Lord spreads already today in His Holy Christian Church—this feast that will reach its fulness in heaven—is a feast that’s for all people… people from “every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages” (Rev. 7:9). And so, even as you have been blessed with a seat at this feast, the Lord continues to use you—the stewards His gifts and members of First St. Paul’s in its 176th year—to make provision so that His feast can continue to be shared with all whom He invites to this place.

What a wonderful heritage God has given this congregation for 175 years! What an honor you have to be the host congregation for the formational meeting of the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod! But, even better, what a precious treasure you (like those before you) have in the promises of God… promises like Isaiah 25 and Revelation 21 that are all about Jesus. And

He who promised is faithful!

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen!

Monday, November 1, 2021

“Always reforming” (John 8:31-36)

John 8:31-36

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Pastor Tom Johnson, October 31, 2021

Jesus says that the truth of his Word will set people free. But those who hear it claim they have no need for liberation. They say they have never been slaves to anyone. Really? That’s quite a claim. Let’s do a quick inventory. The Hebrews spent 430 years in slavery in Egypt. A few hundred years later ten tribes are driven out of Israel and taken as slaves to Assyria. 150 years later, the Babylonians destroy Jerusalem, the temple, and take the people of the southern kingdom into exile. You’ll remember the four Hebrew slaves named Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. A few decades after that, the Persians. Later, the Greeks under Alexander the Great take over the entire region including Israel. They are followed by the Romans who are now overlords of the entire nation of Israelites. And yet they say, “We have never been slaves to anyone.”

Ludicrous. That’s what I want Jesus to say. But rather than try to win an argument. Jesus wants to win their freedom. He pushes things deeper. He goes beyond physical slavery and political captivity. He says all humanity are slaves to sin. “Everyone who commits sins is a slave to sin.” Jesus wants to reform their understanding of the plight of the human condition. He wants us to know just how bad things are. Sin is missing the mark of God’s perfect righteousness. It is not loving God with our whole heart, mind, soul, and strength. It is not loving our neighbor as ourselves or as Christ has loved us. Sin is we we do and fail to do to fulfill God’s righteousness. 

But, as Jesus reminds us in our Scripture, sin is also the power that wants to rule over us. You’ll remember this was God’s warning to Cain before he killed his brother Abel. “Sin is crouching at the door and its desire is to be master over you.” The United States, China, and Russia are powerful nations. But sin is the world’s superpower. Sin has gone global. It has conquered every nation, tribe, tongue, and people. Every human being is subject to this evil imperialism called sin.  It is a disturbing truth. We do not sin simply because to choose to. We do harm to others, to ourselves, to our planet; and, even more disturbing, we sin against God because there is something driving us. Sin is our slave master. We also might say, “I am not a slave to sin.” It would be as ludicrous as the Israelites’ claim in our passage that they have no history of slavery. 

In Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount he also reforms our understanding of sin and ourselves. He says that we are guilty of murder and adultery if we have anger and lust in our hearts. We do not even need to act on sin for it to be lurking in our hearts and poisoning our souls. It already has us captive and under its dominion. This reformation of our understanding of ourselves is the first step toward freedom. It is why the German reformer Martin Luther described the church of his day, who believed that we can earn eternal life through good works, a “Babylonian captivity.”  Many believers were living and teaching a false, misleading dream—that we can be good enough, we can pray enough, we can give enough to earn God’s good graces. No, our condition is so bad and sin has such a strong hold on us that only God can break us free from its power. Only the Son of God can emancipate us from the tyranny of sin, evil, and death. Only the Word made flesh can liberate us to faithful living, love, and hope in the Good News of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection.

Reforming our understanding of sin and our human condition is liberating because it also reforms our understanding of grace, forgiveness, and eternal life in Christ. We realize that we need the power of almighty God to break us free from the superpowers of sin, evil, and death. Martin Luther and those that joined his quest for the truth of the Gospel called themselves reformers because they wanted to reform our view of ourselves and reform our view of God through Scripture so that we would live out the full joy and hope of our Christian vocation. But this is not a one-time thing. We do not just reform and fine-tune our spiritual outlook once; and then we are done. No, we continue to name those areas of our lives and the life of the church where we fall short of the glory of God. You’ll remember the Berean christians in Acts chapter 17 who examined the scriptures daily to see if what the Apostle Paul was teaching was true.Long before the Reformation, sixth century theologian St. Augustine said Ecclesia semper reformanda—the church always reforming. 

So we should be malleable, teachable, and maintain a growth mindset. Jesus is the capital T “Truth.” He is, as he will a few chapters later in John, “the way and the truth and the life.” He alone is the way to a saving relationship with God the Father. We are now set free from living in denial of the devastating impact of sin on our lives as individuals and as a human race. We are now liberated from selfish and meaningless living. The ransom for our emancipation has been paid for by the blood of Jesus. We have been made daughters and sons of God by grace through faith. It is a gift of God through the Person and work of Jesus Christ. We are free to serve God and our neighbor—not out of fear—not out of obligation or compulsion—but out of genuine life-transformation, gratitude, and praise.

It was a false, misleading dream
That God His Law had given
That sinners could themselves redeem
And by their works gain heaven.
The Law is but a mirror bright
To bring the inbred sin to light
That lurks within our nature.

Faith clings to Jesus' cross alone
And rests in Him unceasing;
And by its fruits true faith is known,
With love and hope increasing.
For faith alone can justify;
Works serve our neighbor and supply
The proof that faith is living.
       (“Salvation unto Us Has Come” LSB 555 vv. 3 & 9)