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Sermons, articles, and occasional thoughts from Pastor Tom Johnson


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Thursday, December 29, 2022

“Glory to God on high and peace on earth” (Luke 2:8-14)

Luke 2:8-14

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"Announcement to the shepherds" (circa 1600) Abraham Bloemaert

Pastor Tom Johnson, December 24, 2022

“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” This is the profound song of celebration the angels sing: “glory to God in the highest…peace on earth.” The angels are God’s messengers; that is what “angel” means. Their message is a beautiful twofold summary of the Christmas story: God’s glory and humanity’s peace. What makes this song so special is that it comes from a heavenly perspective. From our human perspective, there may not be anything too remarkable about the birth of this child. It may be unusual to give birth in a stable and place a newborn infant in a feeding trough. Mary has her firstborn child. Joseph is now a loving and proud stepfather. The angels’ song gives us a fresh, otherworldly perspective. They sing about unspeakable and indescribable realities. They are in full celebration when they appear to the shepherds. It is as if they finally have the opportunity to share what has been welling up in their angelic hearts for what may be aeons. 

“Glory to God in the highest!” Their song originates from the highest heaven. They want the shepherds to know that this “good news of great joy for all the people” comes from God. The One who is Born is Savior, Messiah, and Lord. From our perspective, the great miracle is Immanuel—God with us—the incarnation of the eternal Son of God. From the angels’ perspective, the great miracle is God who stands outside of time and space has now become human. Glory to God in the highest! To God alone be the glory, honor, and praise! In heaven, the angels have to shield their eyes because the eternal Son of God’s brightness is so bright. Now on earth, Mary, Joseph, and the shepherds look upon the face of God now veiled in human flesh.  The angels want the shepherds, Mary, Joseph, and all people not to miss this monumental event. Mary will spend a lifetime treasuring these truths and pondering them in her heart. It is Christ’s glory to humble himself and take on our humanity. Jesus himself says that it he is glorified when he is lifted up on the Cross to deliver us from the power of death, evil, and our sin. It is his and our glory to rise victoriously from the dead. 

In the highest heaven there is wholeness, perfection, goodness, and eternal life. The angels invite us into this same thoughtful reflection and exuberant celebration through their song: “Glory to God in the highest…and peace on earth.” This Christmas song is for people longing for good news, hope, and a future. It’s good to be reminded by the angels that Christmas is not first about getting together with family and exchanging gifts. It is about peace—peace for the world and healing for the nations. This is a peace that is wide and deep. It is not about a series of Hallmark moments and mere holiday cheer. It is about a world starving for authentic peace.“For God so loved the world that he sent his only begotten Son”—the Prince of Peace gift-wrapped in swaddling cloths. “Peace on earth”—reconciliation between adversaries—those in authority and those with whom they serve—deliverance from cycles of violence. Peace within communities and peace to and from those who enforce the law—we need peace.

This Christ brings heavenly peace on earth—peace for a troubled world. He gives peace between God and humanity. He offers peace to warring nations and peace for dysfunctional families. He extends peace for our troubled and anxious hearts. He even wants to bring his peace to an exploited and abused creation. The Peace born into this world is a universal Peace—Peace for every individual no matter where they are on their pilgrimage—a peace for all peoples no matter their tribe, their social status, their language, or their place of origin. 

The angels sing, “Peace on earth”—the healing of broken relationships—peace when we admit our flaws and failures—peace when we give and receive forgiveness—peace that makes our friends family and makes our family friends. “Peace on earth”—peace to our restless hearts—peace to our anxious souls. Peace that surpasses human comprehension—the peace of letting go of the resentment—the peace letting go of the guilt—the peace of a clear conscience knowing that we are forgiven in Christ no matter what we have done. “Peace on earth”—the peace of Christ’s presence—now into all eternity. “Lo, I am with you always even to the end of the age.” “Peace I leave with you,” says the Christ Child, “my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid” (John 14:27). It is God’s glory—it is his joy and delight to bring Christ’s peace to the world and to each individual. It brings him great glory—and it brings Christ to earth—when this peace rules in our hearts, our homes, and in our world.

Glory be to God for his indescribable gift! Christ’s peace to you. Christ’s peace through you to all the earth.

Monday, December 12, 2022

“Doubting John” (Matthew 11:2-15)

Matthew 11:2-15

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Serbo-Byzantine fresco from Gračanica Monastery, Kosovo, c. 1235

Pastor Tom Johnson, December 11, 2022

During Advent, John the Baptist prepares the way of the Lord. He prepares people for the Messiah’s first coming. He also prepares us for his second coming. One of the unlikely ways he prepares us is by his honest struggle with who Jesus is. John the Baptizer is human—a little odd, perhaps, but flesh and blood nonetheless. He is a child of God…who doubts. He asks, “are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another.” This is the same John who proclaimed, “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” But John is now in prison. He knows that he likely will be executed. In the midst of his suffering John asks, “Are you the Messiah? Or is someone else?” John desperately needs assurance of grace. He needs a word of affirmation from Jesus and about Jesus. He needs to be reassured that the good news is true.

John once filled our imagination with the hearts of children turning to their parents and parents to their children. John promised a world where every crooked path is made straight, every mountain low, and every valley high—evening out the terrain for God’s international highway leading all humanity to the true and living God. But the Roman Empire still occupies Israel. All the people of God live in the prison of Roman occupation and police state. King Herod is not a legitimate king but a Roman puppet and tyrant. Herod already has John’s head on a proverbial platter. The religious leaders lay the heavy burden of Mosaic Law on the people. They are held in the prison of shame and guilt for their sins. They are held captive to the lie that they need to make themselves righteous. They are also held captive to the lie that Yahweh is an angry and demanding god. 

It does not look like Jesus and his cousin John are winning. John is in prison. And people have already tried to throw Jesus off a cliff and stone him. Soon Jesus will also be arrested and in prison. The trajectory of their story does not look good. It looks like they are going to lose everything they have worked so hard for. In this moment, it seems John’s faith in Jesus may all be for nothing. John speaks some hope when he asks if someone else is come along. But he is vulnerable enough to speak the fear that troubles his mind.

This is good news. You are not alone in your troubling and doubting thoughts. We are not alone in our questions, our despair, our struggles, our suffering. Even the greatest of prophets have their doubts. This is good news. Jesus does not scold John. Jesus does not shame him because of his doubts. Jesus is so secure in himself, he is more concerned about elevating John and those around him than he is being defensive and building a case for himself. You too, dear child of God, are not alone. You too are safe with Jesus—safe to cry out your own doubts and despair. You are safe to cast all your burdens upon him because he cares for you. God’s love for us is stronger than our doubts.

Jesus answers John’s question if he is the Christ by assuring that he is the one to come. But Jesus also turns John’s question on its head. He says, “What did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes—a suit and tie? Suits and ties are for politicians. Truly, I tell you, you went out to see a prophet.” This is good news. Jesus has more faith in John than John has in himself. Jesus has more faith in John than John has in Jesus. Jesus tells us John is unlike any other prophet. John is the greatest. John is a greater prophet because his ministry immediately precedes the unveiling of the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth.

It’s interesting how many people want to understand John’s question in any other way than a struggle with Jesus’ identity and his own mission. But it should not be surprising since John is only human. We can even find John’s doubts comforting. It tells us that we are in good company when we doubt. John is also in good company. 

You’ll remember the father of a boy who was oppressed by an unclean spirit—how Jesus told the father that his son would be healed if he believed. And the father said, “I believe, help my unbelief.” And so Jesus both healed the boy as well as helped to strengthen the man’s faith. 

You’ll remember how Thomas refused to believe that Jesus rose from the dead and said, “Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe” (Jn 20). It was that same Thomas, who when he saw Jesus in his glorious, new Body gave us one of the greatest confessions of faith. He said, “My Lord and My God!” Jesus strengthens Thomas’ faith. 

You’ll remember Peter how he showed faith and unbelief on the same day. When Jesus said that he will be killed by the leadership in Jerusalem, Peter said, “Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you!” (Matt 16).  But it was that same Peter, who when asked who Jesus is, said, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus said that Peter was blessed and that his faith was a gift, and that the Church will be built on that solid rock of faith —the faith Jesus gives.

And so there will be times when our faith is the size of a mustard seed. And, as Jesus says, mustard seed-sized faith is enough.  We have unanswered questions to many of life’s riddles. But here is the good news: that’s okay. It’s normal. As Scripture says, “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to everyone” (1 Cor 10:13).

It was even common for the great prophet John. Jesus was there for John. Jesus is there for you. Even when we feel least in the Kingdom of heaven, Jesus says, we are greater than John. Jesus raised John up with words of praise. Jesus raises us up higher. He says, “Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” Jesus will always has more faith in you than you have in him. And so we should not be afraid to pour out our doubts and despair. His answer? He calls you and me the greatest. He sends his Word and Spirit to lift us higher and higher. He comes to elevate us into the life the world to come—we daughters and sons of the most high. 

And so we pray. Amen. Even so, come Lord Jesus.

Monday, November 28, 2022

“Swords to Plowshares” (Isaiah 2:1-5)

Isaiah 2:1-5

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Pastor Tom Johnson, November 27, 2022

It’s a sad commentary. History measures our progress by the advancement of technology for warfare: the Stone Age with sharp stone arrows and spear heads, the Bronze Age with it’s even stronger and sharper instruments of death along with the advent of the sword. The Iron Age brought an even superior metal. But it doesn’t stop there. So much technology was developed to increase the efficiency in taking human life: steel made guns and cannons possible, Newtonian physics led to explosive missiles, Einstein’s E=MC2 led to the atomic bomb.

I know from talking to many of you, how much heartbreak and despair we have at the news of another mass shooting. A mass shooting can be defined by the shooting of four or more people excluding the shooter. There has been 607 mass shootings in the United States this year alone. Lord, have mercy. There has been about 1,000 shooting incidents in New York City this year alone. The same alarming rate of gun violence can be seen in other major cities across the United States and all over the world. It’s even increasing at an alarming rate in countries that have never seen such violence such as Sweden and Japan. In the conflict between Russia and Ukraine, it is estimated that 100,000 Ukrainian soldiers and 100,000 Russian soldiers have been killed. It is estimated that 40,000 civilians have been killed. Lord, have mercy.

How do we as God’s people respond to such violence? What can you and I do about this? Is there any action we can take? Does the Bible have anything to say? It just so happens that today we have powerful Scripture to bring us light and hope. In our Gospel reading, Jesus tells us to stay awake—to live mindfully—to be ready and alert to when he comes again. As we live in expectation of the Prince of peace, we are called to “put on the Lord Jesus and make no provision for the flesh.” We are to be imitators of God. Like Jesus, we are to pray for our enemies. Our Psalm calls us to pray for the peace and quietness of God’s people and to “Pray for the peace of Jerusalem.” “The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective,” Scripture says (James 5:16b). It’s not just an ornament in our worship or an optional part of our lives. We need prayer. This world needs our prayers. One of the great stories of our time is how prayer finds its way to places of devastation because of the Comfort Dogs.

Last week, I was looking at pictures from the Colorado nightclub shooting on CNN’s website. One was of a woman holding another distraught woman. Her patch had the Lutheran Church Charities comfort dog logo. In another picture, you can see hearts with victims’ names on them made by the same Lutheran ministry. Religious organizations are not normally allowed to come and pray with victims. But the dogs and their handlers open the door so that people in need can receive the emotional and spiritual support in their time of need. When we pray, “Come, Lord Jesus,” we pray that his Kingdom would hurry up and come. We pray that his Kingdom promises would come in our time. And so it does through prayer, the Word of God, the gifts of God, and the love of Christ’s disciples. We put on the Lord Jesus, who is the Prince of Peace.

In the United Nations Plaza in New York City, there is a large sculpture of a man with a hammer. The sword he is holding is being transformed into a plowshare. This was a gift from the Soviet Union in 1959. It’s entitled, “Let us beat swords into plowshares”—inspired by Isaiah chapter 2. Several months ago, Elizabeth and I had lunch with a retired pastor and his wife. The wife talked about how much she enjoys hammering guns into garden tools even in her 70’s. She does this with a ministry called Swords to Plowshares. 

Our reading from Isaiah gives a vision of peace Jesus brings to the world. “Nation will not lift up sword against nation; neither shall they learn war any more.” “They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks.” There will be a global transformation of weapons into farm tools. A hot fire will soften the metal so it softens. They will pound sword into plowshares that break up the soil to plant life-giving seed. They will hammer spear-tips into a sickle-like shape to prune the vines and trees so that they yield more fruit. Instead of being instruments of death, they are now tools for sustaining and increasing life. This is not just a promise for the future. God reconciles us and the world to himself. As God’s people we have received a ministry of reconciliation. Our work is to point to Jesus who brings peace which the world cannot give.

But this re-purposing of metal is the result of an even more radical transformation. The fire of the Holy Spirit softens our minds and hearts. The hammer of God’s Word reshapes our minds of metal and hearts of stone. God “creates in us a new heart and renews a right spirit within us” (Ps 51). Before we beat swords into plowshares, God the potter must first pound us lumps of clay. He molds and shapes us into his vessels of peace, love, and good news. This is the Gospel: God transforming instruments of death into instruments for life.

One of the most cruel instruments of death is the Roman cross. It was designed to prolong the agony and pain of the one condemned. To make sure he was dead, the soldier pierced Jesus with a spear. Out of him flowed blood and water. It appeared to be the beating down and defeat of Jesus of Nazareth. It appeared to hammer the one who claimed to be King down into the dust. But Christ’s death was instead the crushing of evil which pulverized our sin and even death itself. Jesus beat the cross, the nails, and the spear into instruments of peace and life by his precious and innocent body and blood. He rose triumphantly to life on the third day to show that he has won the war for humanity though battles still go on.

And so we pray, Come, Lord Jesus. Come, beat swords into plowshares, spears into pruning hooks, guns into garden tools, missiles of destruction into rockets for space exploration, atom bombs into clean nuclear energy, disputed gang turf into community gardens. Come, remake our hearts of stone into hearts of flesh, our wayward souls into children of God, our guilt into forgiveness, our shame into joy, and our self-centered lives into vessels for your glory. And so we pray, “Even so. Amen, come Lord Jesus.”

Monday, November 14, 2022

“The sun of righteousness will rise” (Malachi 4:1-2a)

Malachi 4:1-2

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Pastor Tom Johnson, November 13, 2022

God is good—all the time. All the time—God is good.

British biologist Richard Dawkins identifies as an atheist. He says there is no God. He does not think any concept of god can be good. Dawkins wrote a book called “The God Delusion.” He toured in a bus to promote his book. On the side of the bus it said, “There’s probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life.” In response to his book “The God Delusion,” Alister McGrath—professor of science and religion at the University of Oxford—wrote his own book called “The Dawkins Delusion.” 

And then they had a conversation about their books that was recorded. Alister McGrath grew up an atheist so he not only qualifies intellectually to debate Dawkins—he has empathy for Dawkins. In an amazing turn of the conversation, Dawkins admits that the reason he does not believe in God is not because of the science—but because of all the injustice in the world. Bad things still happen to good people. “If there is a God,” Dawkins says, “why does he not intervene and stop those things from happening.” “I cannot believe in a god who sees all the suffering in the world and does not care enough to do anything about it. I cannot believe in a god like that.” Alister McGrath responds with wisdom and compassion: “I cannot very well believe in a god like that either. That is not the god I believe in.”

Not just preeminent atheists—but all of us are repulsed by a distant and uncaring god. If that is who people think God is, then no wonder our churches are declining in membership and attendance. The truth is that every human being longs to know a benevolent God—the true and living God who loves and cares for us deeply. The truth is that when an atheist says, “I will not believe in an uncaring God,” they are making a profound statement of faith. They are, in fact, longing to believe in a benevolent God. And they long to see the evidence of God in the world we live in. The world can often seem like a dark and godless place. Every time we read the newspaper, turn on the television, or hear the radio, we have another reminder that evil is a palpable reality. It is easy to become overwhelmed by all the bad news and darkness. How long, O Lord? When will you come and right every wrong?

When the disciples walk through the Temple with Jesus, he tells them about wars, natural disasters, plagues, and devastation that will happen. He says that their days will continue to be darkened by evil, sin, and death. He does not say why God will allow these things to happen. But there is light. He promises to protect and preserve their souls through those difficult days ahead. Jesus promises that light and life will prevail.

As we approach Advent, we hear more readings about the end of days—the time Jesus comes to judge the living and the dead—just as we confess in the Apostles’ Creed. Our reading from Malachi says “the day is coming burning like an oven.” This holy heat and consuming fire will purge the world of the arrogant and evildoers. If God is good and loves us and all his creation, this is a day we look forward to—not one we shrink away or recoil from. And so we pray, “Come, Lord Jesus.” We want God to purge arrogance and evil from the world. And that begins with us. Scripture says “Judgment begins with the household of God” (1 Peter 4:17). Jesus baptizes us with the fire of his Word and Holy Spirit. Like a refiner’s fire, God works to remove the impurities and contamination from our hearts and lives. This “burning like an oven” is good for us. It is good for the world. And the day will come when all sin, evil, and even death itself will be burned up by God’s righteous judgment. The Bible does not say when Jesus will come. The Bible does not say exactly how he will judge the nations. There is much we don’t know. But we do know that we still have to walk by faith, not by sight. We must trust God. We believe that he is good. We live in the assurance that whatever judgment he renders is just and good.

I love how our Psalm—Psalm 98–puts it: “The Lord will judge the world with righteousness and the peoples with equity.” In other words, we trust that God is always good and fair. God will intervene and call to account every human soul. He will humble those who are proud. He will finally stop those who do evil. This is also good news. It’s good news for those who were persecuted in the early church. It is good news for those many Christians who suffer persecution, imprisonment, and death because of their faith in Jesus today. Those whom Jesus will judge are not named. Those to whom Jesus will bring fire are not identified—only as “the arrogant and evildoers.” It is not our job to say who or what they are. We do not add our words to God’s Word.

Our comfort is that God is good. God cares about our suffering. And there will come a day when he will deal swiftly with all the injustice we see in the world. We don’t know why God delays in finally doling out his justice. One reason he delays is out of his grace and mercy. As Scripture says, “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.”

“But for you,” our reading from Malachi says, “but for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings.” The dawn of this bright morning star has already come and shined in the person of Jesus Christ. He has already suffered judgment for us on the Cross of Calvary. We have seen God’s justice when he conquered sin, evil, and death by the selfless sacrifice of the Son of God. And we will see his divine justice again.

This sun of righteousness has already arisen out of the empty tomb in burning glory. He brings healing in his wings. He gives life and flight to our forgiveness, life, and salvation. The burning sun shines in our hearts, lives, and the whole world. He bears our healing on his wings—healing of body, mind, and spirit. And we will see his divine justice again when he comes in glory. 

God is good—all the time. All the time—God is good.

Monday, November 7, 2022

“You will laugh” (Luke 6:21b)

Luke 6:20-31

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Pastor Tom Johnson, November 6, 2022

“Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.” Jesus promises laughter to be part of God’s reign in our lives. Godly laughter is a guaranteed consequence to the good news of Christ’s Kingdom crashing into our world. Laughter is an involuntary response of the body. Giggling and roaring laughter are wordless but audible celebration. We cannot really decide when we are going to laugh. Something may tickle our funny bone. It may be the relief after a close call with lethal danger. Laughter can come when we clearly see how foolish we humans can be. It can come when we release the stress of confronting truth that makes us feel uncomfortable. It can result from the discovery of irony—two things that you would not expect to come together—a juxtaposition of incongruities. 

But in this same sermon Jesus says there is a laughter that should be turned into mourning and weeping—laughter that needs to stop. This may be the laughter that comes as the expense of others—laughter that mocks others—celebrates another’s demise or destruction. Jesus wants us to cultivate a godly sense of humor.  

You’ll remember that Sarah laughed at God’s promise that they will have a child in their old age. This may have been the laughter of unbelief. Or it may have have been laughter at what she believed was too good to be true. When their son is born, their home was filled with laughter and joy over their son whom God names Isaac—which means “laughter.” This is to remind them and us that it is God’s joy to fulfill his promises. And that God gets the last laugh.

You’ll remember when Jesus tells those who are mourning the death of a girl that she is only asleep. They laugh in unbelief and Jesus’ apparent cluelessness to the reality of death. Jesus silences their laughter by raising her from the dead and brings a godly laughter in it’s place—in celebration of life restored.

It is an harmful laughter when we make fun of others—when we ridicule—when we enjoy seeing others fail or harmed. This kind laughter is a poison inside of us. It spills out for others to see and hear our callousness and cruelty of heart. This is the laughter that Jesus wants to transform into a godly sorrow—sadness over living in a sinful world—and compassion for those who suffer—even those who the consequences of their own bad choices.

The preacher in Ecclesiastes says there is a time to weep and there is a time to laugh (3:4). There is a time to mourn our losses; there is a time to be grateful for what we have been blessed with. There is a time to feel godly sorrow for our sins; there is a time to celebrate a change of heart just as the angels do. There is a time to stop destructive laughter; there is a time to appreciate God’s sense of humor. In Psalm 2, God laughs when we boast of our strength. “He who sits in the heavens laughs” (v. 4a). God thinks it’s funny when we make plans and don’t add the words “God willing” or consider the brevity and frailty of our earthly lives.

The most striking example of evil laughter being transformed into godly laughter is when Jesus is crucified. Those who crucified Jesus mocked him and even put a sign over his head to make a joke of him which says, “King of the Jews.”  But three days later, God adds his own punchline when Jesus rises victoriously from the dead. He is not merely the King of the Jews. He is Lord of lords and King of kings—he reigns over heaven and earth. He is King of the universe.

The average person laughs 17 times a day. When we laugh 100 times a day it is the equivalent of 15 minutes of cardiovascular exercise. Laughter is good for the body, heart, and soul.  Research suggests that laughter strengthens our immune systems, boosts our mood, diminishes pain and the damaging effects of stress. Proverbs 17:22 says, “A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.” Here we have the promise of laughter from the lips of Jesus. “You will laugh.” In Christ we have joy that transcends sorrow, we receive love that is deeper than heartbreak, and we celebrate lives transformed by the powerful reign of God.

Today is All Saints Sunday. We remember our friends and loved ones who are no longer with us. I think about my parents every day. I remember what each of them found funny. I remember how each of them made me laugh. Laughter was particularly important to my mom. When my sisters, brother, or I would talk about time with friends and family, my mom would always ask the same, strange question: “Did you laugh a lot?” We actually thought the question itself was hilarious. But it was genius. My mom wanted to make sure that our lives were full of joy and laughter. Even while she was in hospice in the final days of her life, she made us laugh. She asked me to speak at her funeral and—as you might already have guessed—she asked me to make sure there was laughter. And thanks be to God, there was.

We cherish the memory of loved ones who are no longer with us. They were not perfect. We even laugh at their quirks and imperfections. Our laughter is in gratitude for having known them and the funny stories we still share. Our loss on earth is God’s gain in heaven. We will laugh with them again. In the meantime, God meets us in our sorrows. Even now there is much to laugh about. We act foolishly, selfishly, and sinfully but in Christ we have forgiveness. We do not know what we are doing. We learn to laugh at ourselves. We also celebrate God’s mercy and the One who laid down his life for us on the Cross. The tomb where they lay Jesus is now empty. In the resurrection, we laugh, dance, and give shouts of praise. We can even laugh in the face of death and say, “O death where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” In Christ all our tears will be wiped away. It will only be the beginning of eternal laughter.

Monday, October 31, 2022

“Liberating Truth” (John 8:31-36)

John 8:31-36

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Pastor Tom Johnson, October 30, 2022

Those who continue in Jesus’ Word and teaching are true disciples. They will know the truth. And the truth will make them free. This is a positive message. But God’s people would not receive it. “We are descendants of Abraham. We have never been slaves to anyone.” “What does Jesus mean that we will be made free? We are free and have always been free,” they say. “The descendants of Abraham have never been slaves to anyone”? Even Abraham’s wife was taken as a concubine. Abraham’s great-grandson Joseph was sold into slavery in Egypt by his own brothers. 

For over 400 years, the descendants of Abraham—the Hebrew people—were slaves in Egypt. Generations later, the descendants of Abraham were slaves in Babylon—for seventy years. At the time Jesus said he will make us free, God’s people were under the brutal control and dictatorship of the Roman Emperor. It’s hilarious. “We have never been slaves to anyone,” they say. But Jesus doesn’t even go there. He does not give them a crash course on the history of human trafficking of the descendants of Abraham in the Bible.  No, he talks about slavery at a much deeper level—slavery of all people, in all places, and at all times—the universal slavery of all humanity—slavery to sin.

Jesus by the Holy Spirit opens up our minds to understand that sin is not just the things we do or say that bring harm to others and ourselves. It’s far worse. Sin is a tyrannical master. Sin wants us to its bidding. Sin wants to enslave you and me. The unsettling truth is that we are all born into this system of control and exploitation whether we are daughters and sons of Abraham or daughters and sons of Pharaoh, the King of Babylon, or the Emperor of Rome. We are all victims of spiritual slavery. Even the perpetrators of slavery are victims themselves. It is a disturbing thought—that we do harm to others and ourselves—that we withhold love and doing good to our neighbor—because we cannot help it. We are not the captains of our souls. We are carrying out the evil and sin our master. We don’t need coaching. We need liberation.

500 years ago, a German Monk named Martin Luther wrote a paper tract dedicated to the Pope called, “On the Freedom of the Christian.” This paper is about how vast and complete our freedom is in Christ. Luther says two radical things. First, “the Christian is subject to no one.” As believers, we are not slaves to anyone or anything. We have been set free indeed. Second, Luther says, “Christians are subject to all.” We have now been set free to serve God and our neighbor out of love, free from fear, and free from obligation. This idea that God’s truth sets us free ignited reformation of the church. The idea that no one is the property of another person changed the world. Knowing the truth of the Gospel liberates us.

We are spiritually free. In Christ, we are free from condemnation. He liberates us from sin’s death grip. He frees us from death itself. He purchased a place for us in heaven not with gold or silver but with his precious blood on the Cross of Calvary. The truth sets us free intellectually. We have been delivered from the false and misleading dream that we have to earn God’s love.  We are free from the idea that we have to get God’s attention by doing good works. We are saved by God’s grace alone through faith alone. We are free to give thanks that salvation itself is free. The truth sets us free socially. The truth is that we are free in the eyes of God. So why should a Christian accept living under systems of manipulation, control, and abuse? In God’s eyes, we are free. So the Reformation gave many princes and ordinary people in Germany boldness to respectfully put the authority of Scripture above the authority of King Charles. The truth set them free to envision a life where every human soul has value.

In 1934, a black Baptist preacher named Michael King went to Germany. It was one year into Adolph Hitler taking power. After visiting the church where Martin Luther nailed the 95 theses on the church door, he was inspired by Luther’s boldness and to imagine a world set free by the truth of the Gospel. Pastor Michael King came back to the United States and signed a statement which condemned “all racial animosity, and every form of oppression or unfair discrimination toward the Jews, toward coloured people, or toward subject races in any part of the world.” It was after that life-changing trip to Germany to learn about the Reformation that Michael changed his name to Martin Luther King. He also changed the name of his son Michael King, Jr. to Martin Luther King, Jr. 

A lie will not live forever. It is a lie that some people are inferior to another. It is a lie that we receive eternal life by purchasing indulgences or by our good behavior. It is a lie that we can save ourselves from our captivity to sin and death. You will know the truth. And the truth will set you free. Jesus sets us free from the inside out. He sets us free by the truth of how much God loves us and all people—the truth of how wide, how deep, and how high God’s grace and mercy are. He sets us free by how freely he loves us—by showing us that he gave his life freely and takes it up again freely and out of joy. He sets us free by the gift of our salvation. He liberates us from thinking in a way that leads to living as slaves to our own sinful appetites. He sets us free from masters that have no right to impose and abuse their power over us. He sets us free by the truth of the Gospel because he is the Way, the Truth, and Life. We come to the Father through Christ alone—by grace alone—through faith alone—to God alone be the glory.

Monday, October 24, 2022

“Self-righteousness” (Luke 18:9-14)

Luke 18:9-14

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Pastor Tom Johnson, October 23, 2022

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—the problem of pride. There are two sides to this ugly coin. On the one side is self-righteousness. On the other is regarding others with contempt. Two go up to the Temple to pray. One is a Pharisee. The other is a tax collector. They have the same purpose—to pray. But their words, their hearts, and their prayers are as different as day is from night.

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—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. Look at how I measure against the others. 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 look pretty darn good.”

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? Is God so easily fooled? 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 kind of funny 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 stands at a distance because he knows he is unworthy. As a tax collector, he likely took money from his fellow Jews and gave it to Rome, their foreign occupier. He likely collected more than he was supposed to and kept it for himself. 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. He loves to extend mercy. 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. That is why he goes home justified—righteous. 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.”

In 1725, John Newton was born. His father was a shipowner and slave trader. John sailed his first voyage to Africa at age eleven. He says that for him the name “Jesus Christ” were merely curse words sailors barked out. John became a captain of a slave ship himself and was responsible for the death and enslavement of more than 20,000 human beings. He witnessed and was the cause of unspeakable human atrocities. During a terrible storm that threatened to sink his ship, John prayed for the first time. He simply prayed for God’s mercy—like the tax collector in our text. The storm calmed and he made it safely home. But he got more mercy than he bargained for. He began to read the Bible and pray. He became a priest in the Church of England. He renounced slavery. He wrote candidly about how horrible his own behavior and the slave trade were. He fought hard to put an end to slavery. At the end of his life at age 82 he said, “My memory is nearly gone, but I remember two things: that I am a great sinner—and that Christ is a great Savior!” He also wrote,

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see.

          (“Amazing Grace” LBW 448 v. 1)

Monday, October 17, 2022

“Wrestling with God” (Genesis 32:22-31; Luke 18:1-8)

Genesis 32:22-31
Luke 18:1-8

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Pastor Tom Johnson, October 16, 2022

This morning we are reminded again that prayer is a struggle. I don’t mean that it is a struggle to find time to pray, though it can be. I don’t mean that it is a struggle to have the strength to pray, though it can also be. I mean that prayer is a struggle. In our Scripture from Genesis, Jacob literally wrestles with God. It was such an intense match, that God ripped Jacob’s hip out of its socket. I wrestled in junior high and high school. This is not collegiate wrestling. It’s more like mixed martial arts. Jacob realizes that he just had a bare-fisted, limb-twisting, hip socket-snatching fight with the Lord Almighty. Side note: this is likely the pre-incarnate Christ—the eternal Son of God Jacob is wresting. Jacob is amazed that he lived to tell about it. In other words, it was no struggle for God. God’s sense of humor is that he says Jacob prevailed. He let Jacob live. Jacob’s trophy is that he gets to limp for the rest of his life. God also gives him a new name: Yīsra’el. It means “wrestles with God.” All of his children, great-grandchildren, his descendants, and the nation even to this day are known as Yīsra’el—those who wrestle with God. It is a constant reminder that our relationship with God through prayer can often be a struggle.

Sometimes I wonder if some of our hymns and well-crafted prayers don’t do us a disservice. Prayer is not always clean, poetic, beautiful, and heartwarming words. Prayer can be messy. Prayer can be us contending and challenging God. Prayer can be our pouring out our worst thoughts, fears, and cries to him. Like it was for Jacob, prayer can be an all-out altercation with the Creator of the universe.

I remember hearing the prayers of Tevye in the musical Fiddler on the Roof. Tevye is a poor Jewish farmer struggling through life. Tevye prays to God after his horse has an accident and can no longer work.

Dear God, was that necessary? Did you have to make him lame just before the Sabbath? That wasn’t nice. It’s enough you pick on me. Bless me with five daughters, a life of poverty, that’s all right. But what have you got against my horse? Really, sometimes I think, when things are too quiet up there, you say to yourself, ‘Let’s see, what kind of mischief can I play on my friend, Tevye?

I remember laughing while at the same time feeling a little uncomfortable with this prayer. That may be too honest with God! But God knows our prayers long before we utter them, Scripture says. He intimately knows the thoughts and intentions of every human heart. God is not surprised. He is not offended. God loves to hear Tevye’s prayers. God loves Tevye’s horse more than Tevye loves his horse. And Tevye is still talking to God as a friend.

This is the point of Jesus story of the unrighteous judge. He neither fears God or respects other human beings. He only gives her what she wants because he is sick and tired of hearing from her and just wants her to go away. The point of the parable is that God is not like the unrighteous judge. He does not get sick of hearing from the widow. Jesus is telling a ridiculous story of a narcissistic leader to make us laugh at ourselves and laugh at our ridiculous view of God. Our Scripture says that Jesus tells this parable so that we will understand our need to always pray and not to lose heart in doing so. This story is about being encouraged to pray—without ceasing. Jesus tells this story so that we would be assured that God is not the jerk we sometimes think he is. Do you want to pray to the jerk in Jesus’ parable or to the true, living, and loving God? 

If we view God as the great narcissist of the universe—if we see him as being disgusted with us and all humanity—if we see him as detached, uncaring, unloving—if we see him as not giving a rip about our struggles—we will lose heart. We will not pray. We will not be drawn to God in prayer. We will neglect him because we will think he first neglected us. The German Reformer Martin Luther said that Jesus taught us to begin our prayers with “Our father” because God wants us to come to him as a dearly loved child would come to their dearly loved parent.

When I was in seminary in Dallas, I used to visit teenagers at risk of gang involvement with other seminary student named Wilfred Sewodie. Wilfred was a fiery preacher from the Volta River region Ghana. He loved the Lord. He was passionate about other African students not trying to make a career in the United States but going back to their homelands to build up the church. One night while Wilfred was out learning to drive to get his license, a drunk driver fleeing the police crashed into Wilfred’s car and instantly killed him. We were all devastated at our loss. At his funeral, two students got up to speak. They explained why Wilfred died. They explained that God was going to open up a bigger door for the Gospel through this here in Dallas and there in West Africa. I was mad. I was angry at the students for trying to put a little bandaid on a devestating wound to my faith. I was already mad at God for allowing it to happen. I spent months struggling in my thoughts and prayers. 

I still have no answer as to why God is the Great Allower of things that are difficult to understand. It still makes no sense to me that God would call Wilfred home before he had time to give his life in years of ministry. After spending months of silence between me and God, I let God have it. I don’t remember the words but I do remember saying several well-placed colorful words—the kind of words my mother would have washed my mouth out. I told God what I really thought of him, of allowing Wilfred to die, and of allowing those students to get up at his funeral and sugar-coat my pain and grief. And that is when it happened. I felt a peace that transcends comprehension wash over me. I remembered how much Wilfred loved the Lord, his gigantic white smile with his long black finger pointing up to heaven. God loves Wilfred more than I do. Jesus wept at Lazarus’ funeral even though he knew he was to raise him. Jesus weeps for us and with us.

God wants us to throw down the gauntlet with him in prayer. And, I believe, he loves it. God loves it when we can be vulnerable and real with him. It means we trust him. We know we are safe with him—that he is a friend to sinners. As Scripture says, “Cast all your anxieties—all your burdens upon him because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7). He loves it when we take his promises in Scripture and make them into prayers. “Jesus, you said you give a peace that the world cannot give—a peace that surpasses understanding; give me that peace now.” “God you promise not to leave us as an orphans or forsake us; assure us of your presence, your love, and your tender care.” Give us the boldness to keep it real with you as you kept it real with your Heavenly Father; when you said, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?!” …when you laid down your life in prayer to give us the assurance of forgiveness, eternal life, and that you are the benevolent God we need and who truly cares.

What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry ev’rything to God in prayer!
Oh, what peace we often forfeit; oh, what needless pain we bear—
All because we do not carry ev’rything to God in prayer!
          (“What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” LBW 439 v. 1)

Monday, October 3, 2022

“Faith the Size of a Mustard Seed” (Luke 17:5-6; 2 Tim 1:1-14)

2 Timothy 1:1-14

Luke 17:5-6

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Pastor Tom Johnson, September 25, 2022


Jesus has just said a number of difficult things—about the love of money, how we can fall into ruin when we put anything in this world before the true and living God. Jesus gives dire warnings for those who cause the little ones to stumble, and how God calls us to forgive one another even if we sin against each other seven times a day. This may be the most difficult—requiring the most faith—to forgive one another seven times a day. “Increase our faith!” the apostles cry. “Make our faith grow!” If they only had more faith, they suppose, they would be able to love God more than money. If they only had more faith, they would be able to stop putting other people and things before their relationship with God. If they only had more faith, they would teach and protect the little ones with great zeal and conviction. If they only had more faith, they would be able to forgive others all day long without any resentment or forgiveness fatigue. “If I had more faith,” I’ve heard people say, “I’d go to church more often. I’d read my Bible more. I’d pray more. I’d share my faith more. If I had more faith, I’d  worry less about the future. I’d fear death less.”  There is nothing wrong with what the apostles say to Jesus: “Increase our faith.” In fact, it is a prayer. You’ll remember the man who brought his son to be healed by Jesus. Jesus says, “All things are possible to those who believe.” The man prays in a similar way. “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief” (Mark 9:23-24).

One of the greatest mistakes we make about faith is to view it as a commodity. We see faith as transactional. If we have enough faith, we will be able to put that in God’s vending machine and get what we want.  Or we see faith as what we do to get God’s attention. God is just waiting and waiting and waiting for us to believe. He won’t move an inch. He will not open his treasure chest until you and I muster up enough faith to qualify for his blessings. Perhaps you have heard the prosperity preachers on the radio or on television. The reason you don’t have that vacation home, high-paying job, or fancy car—the reason your dreams have not come true—is that you do not have enough faith. Hearing preaching and teaching like that infuriates me. It is a diabolical lie. It puts us at the center of our spiritual journey: “What’s wrong with me that I don’t have enough faith?” “Why can’t I muster up more faith?” “Increase our faith, Lord!” 

Jesus’ response shows that we have the whole question of faith upside down. Our whole understanding of faith is backwards. We will never be able to generate faith. We are not the agents of faith.  Faith is not what gets God’s attention. He loved you since before the foundation of the world. Our Scripture says, “This grace was given to us in Christ Jesus before the ages began.” He sought us when we were lost and wandering in unbelief. He pursued us while we still lacked faith.  Our relationship with God is a gracious gift. He is the one who first loved us. Even our faith itself is a gift. He gives that gift thought the power of his Holy Spirit when we hear Scripture. He plants the seed of faith into our hearts in Baptism when we are washed with the water, the Word, and the Holy Spirit.

“If you have faith the size a mustard seed,” Jesus says, “You will be able to uproot a mature tree with a commanding word and plant it in the sea.” “If you have the faith of a mustard seed…”—even if you have the smallest of faith—even the teeny-tiniest belief and trust in God—it is enough for miracles to happen. God does great things through our small and weak faith. As Paul says about how our faith grows, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God causes the growth.” It is no surprise to God that our faith is small and weak. In fact, he expects our little faith. He knows that we lack faith. When the Apostle Paul was struggling with his faith, God spoke to him. He said to Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you. For my power is made perfect in weakness.” It is God’s speciality to do great things with our weak faith. Just as a tiny mustard seed is sown into the ground to produce a shrub that is thousands of times its size. So God sows a little seed of faith into our hearts. It is enough for him to do what seems impossible to us. For all things are possible through him.

Paul encourages Timothy in our Scripture reading by talking about the humble, small but glorious beginning of his faith. He says, “I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.” Timothy’s mom and grandmother are further proof that Timothy did not create his faith or grow his faith. It was a seed planted in grandma Lois, then passed down to mama Eunice, and then planted into little Timothy. God not only works faith into the heart of Timothy—he works faith into generations of Timothy’s family. 

It was 1941. War between the United States and Germany and Japan broke out that year. A seven year-old little girl was listening to the radio with her family. It was the first time she saw absolute fear and terror on her parents’ faces. It was about the same time that little girl began a friendship with another little girl—a Presbyterian little girl. She invited the little girl to go to church with her. The little girl who went to church for the first time was my mom, Caryl. Little Caryl came home from church with newborn faith. She told her parents about God and about Jesus. Her parents—my grandparents—started taking their little daughter to church. Correction—the little girl started taking her parents to church.  Correction—God used the little faith of a little girl—God used the latent faith of my grandparents to bring them back into a relationship with God. It was not the little hands that held their hands—nor her parents hands that held hers.  It was the grip of Almighty God that held them. It was their Great Redeemer who led them with faith the size of a mustard seed.

Jesus love me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to him belong. They are weak. He is strong.

Monday, September 26, 2022

“The Love of Money” (1 Timothy 6:6-19; Luke 16:19-31)

1 Timothy 6:6-19
Luke 16:19-31

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Pastor Tom Johnson, September 25, 2022

The greatest commandment is to love God with our whole being and to love others as Christ loved us. Our Scripture today says, “The love of money is the root of all sorts of evil.” God calls us to love himself and people—not money. “The love of money is the root of all sorts of evil.” There are all kinds of bad things that come from our love-affair with money. Last week, we heard Jesus say you cannot be a slave to both God and money. You will end up hating God if you love money. You cannot serve both God and wealth. The love of money is not true love. We are infatuated. Look at all those zeros in the bank account! Look at that arrow going straight up on the stock exchange graph! What a beautiful green bill with a lovely blue ribbon woven into the legal tender! What an attractive watermark! 

God takes the layer of gold off this dazzling idol. Underneath is rotten wood. The money in our accounts are just numbers floating around our bank’s servers and the cloud. Our investments can climb one day and crash the next. The coins in our pockets no longer contain all the precious metals they originally had. In fact, even if all our currency was based on the gold standard as it was a long time ago, even gold has no real value. You cannot eat it. You cannot plant it into the ground to grow food. You cannot make clothing or a home out of it. Other than making things look pretty, a brick of gold’s best use is as a door stop. Money only has value when we all believe it has the value it represents. We have to agree, believe, and trust that a meal from a fast-food restaurant is worth $15. If Americans stopped believing in the value of the dollar it would be a disaster. Our Scripture says that the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil because it isn’t real. It’s a figment of our collective imagination. The desire to become rich is a trap because we are chasing after something that will never deliver. Its end is ruin and destruction because we become a slave to wanting more and more money. During the pandemic, online orders skyrocketed. Santa was coming to town not once a year but every few days. People started to feel empty if they didn’t have a package coming to their doorstep every week. And so people became addicted to tracking their orders and waiting for their delivery. Trust me. Amazon knows this.

Think of the love of money as a bad relationship. God is doing an intervention to save you and me from the heartache of a toxic relationship. Money will never be your true love. Money will make all sorts of promises. Money will future-fake. Money will never give us ultimate happiness and pleasure. Money will betray you and try to attract someone else when you don’t give money the attention and worship it demands. Putting all our hopes and dreams into money will plunge us into ruin and destruction just as our Scripture says. Money will make us burn with jealousy as we try to keep up the with proverbial Joneses. Money is the greatest stressor in relationships. The love of money will triangulate all our relationships. The love of money will cause us to neglect the people God brings across our paths—just as the rich man neglects the needs of Lazarus in our Gospel. The love of money can keep us in careers and jobs that are killing our souls, keep us from spending quality and quantity time with family and church family.

But the worst of it is when this toxic relationship with money keeps us from our first and true love—God. We love because he first loved us. God wants us to be in a healthy relationship. He calls us to pursue godliness and contentment. God doesn’t dangle godliness and contentment in front of us to taunt us or lure us into a trap. He truly delivers. When we trust God and love him above all things, we know that he will provide for all our needs—not our wants—but our needs. Faith is another gift he gives so that we can have peace that transcends our understanding. Contentment is a beautiful sign of a healthy relationship. It means that we grow in our trust of one another. We know we can count on one another when it matters most. We may not always receive what we want. But we will receive what we need.

Our Gospel reading is not about the afterlife. It’s about the rich man who fell into ruin and destruction because he loved his riches more than anything else—more than his family, more than his poor neighbor Lazarus at his doorstep. Even the dogs showed more compassion than the rich man when they licked Lazarus’ sores. The rich man loved money more than the Scriptures that came through Moses and the prophets. So he neglected the Word of God. That’s why Jesus said that even if someone rises from the dead and preaches the Gospel it still would not convince his brothers of the danger and ruin of the love of money.  But even more devastating is the rich man’s love for money that is greater than love for God himself. He is trapped beyond the great chasm of the love of money. Here is where we see Jesus’ dark sense of humor. Jesus will raise his friend (also named Lazarus) from the dead and send him back to be a witness of eternal life. Even Jesus himself will rise from the dead, go back to the living, and call them to take hold of what our Scripture calls “life that really is life.”

The eternal son of God left his heavenly throne and mansion— built with the finest stone and gems—with streets paved in gold. He left an eternal feast—of food rich in marrow, of well-aged wine well-refined. He left all his riches to rescue the poor in spirit and those held captive by the love of money and the deceptive things of this world. He was born into a poor, working class family. He scraped a living as a carpenter. He lived off the generosity of others—mostly women. He had no place to lay his head. He lived a nomadic life as a teacher and healer. He embraced his poverty because he did not love money —or the riches he left behind—more than you and me. Yet he did come here to go on a shopping spree the likes of which the world has never seen before. He gave his life on the Cross for the forgiveness of the whole world. He purchased a place for us in the same heaven he came from—not with gold or silver—but with his precious blood.

Riches I heed not, nor vain, empty praise,
Thou mine inheritance, now and always:
Thou, and Thou only, first in my heart,
great God of heaven, my treasure Thou art.
          (“Be Thou My Vision” WOV 776, v. 3)

Thursday, September 8, 2022

“Planted in the Word” (Psalm 1)

Psalm 1

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Pastor Tom Johnson, September 4, 2022

Psalm one is a wisdom psalm. It celebrates the happiness and joy that flows from being rooted in the Word of God. “Oh the happiness…oh the blessedness of those” who do not do certain things. Wisdom helps us navigate this world by avoiding its pitfalls. We cherish and preserve happiness and blessedness by not walking in evil counsel, by not lingering in sinful paths, by not sitting among mockers. It is foolish to walk, stand, or sit as the world does. It is not healthy to follow those around us without reflection. Wisdom calls us out of foolishness. Wisdom rescues us from meaninglessness. Wisdom delivers us from evil. But just like all temptation—anytime the world, our fallen nature, and evil try to seduce us, it is not enough to simply stop engaging in unhealthy behavior. We need direction away from the negative but also direction toward the positive. We need to stop being poisoned but, even more importantly, we need God’s medicine.

Wisdom calls us. But God does not just tell us about wisdom. He leads us to wisdom. He softens our hearts. He opens our minds. And he does so through his Word and his Holy Spirit. “Oh the happiness…oh the blessedness of those” who delight in the Word of God—who meditate on God’s teaching day and night. This meditation can be translated as musing. That is to say, as we reflect on God’s truth, we savor his Word. And we do so day and night. We do so while we live, we work, and rest on our beds. We let the Word of Christ dwell richly within us, as Scripture says. The Word percolates into our consciousness and unconsciousness. We joyfully reprogram our minds by “holding every thought captive to the Word of God.”

We could call this Christian mindfulness. We don’t just clear the hard drive of our brains and remove a harmful virus or malware. We upload God’s operating system and software. This is what our minds are engineered for: God’s Word. This is not just mere work—this is delight. “Oh the happiness…oh the blessedness” the psalmist says, of those who receive the Word, let it ferment and grow in our hearts and minds, and stay connected to the Word throughout the day. We do this when we hear Scripture in public worship, have daily devotions at home, sing hymns and songs in the shower, reflect on God’s Word during our commute, ponder God’s truth as we walk, go on a bike ride, run, or work out. When we relish God’s Word throughout out daily and nightly routines, we have all the time in the world. We treasure it in our hearts no matter what our activity is. We savor it in our minds—whether we are wide awake or sound asleep.  We will be “like trees planted by streams of water, bearing fruit in due season, with leaves that do not wither; everything we do will prosper,” our psalm says. We are God’s trees planted by streams of water. 

We are part of God’s orchard. God is the horticulturist who puts us in a place where we will be nurtured. God uproots us from fallow ground and plants us in fertile soil. The Word of God is living and active. It flows down the rock picking up minerals. The Word seeps and flows through fungi picking up sugars and other nutritious material on its way to our root system. 

Most root systems are 50% more extensive than the tree we see above ground. This subterranean network is hidden but essential. Just like the subconscious mind rooted in the Word, so this subterranean delivery of nutrients keeps us spiritually alive. God uproots us from a waterless and word-less wasteland. He plants us exactly where we will thrive and grow. Wisdom tells us to plunge our roots deep into the Word. Joy and praise cause us to spread our roots and branches deep and far. 

The first church I served was in El Paso, Texas. I remember flying into that high elevation desert for the first time. All I could see out the plane’s window was what looked like a lunar landscape—no trees—just brown peppered with dry shrubs. I was looking for the Rio Grand River. It’s not that wide of a river so it is hard to see. You find it by the green trees on it’s banks. You see the river flowing out as far as the eye can see. One of the world’s largest pecan orchards is there planted by water that flows from the Rocky Mountain heights.

As God’s trees, we bear fruit in due season. Trees that have been nourished by the Word gather up its strength and resources for a year—maybe several years. The flowers bloom to reveal their beauty. Bees, hummingbirds, and other creatures come to drink the nectar and pollinate to multiply. The flower slowly dies and, in its place, the fruit of the Word rises. This fruit of the Holy Spirit is for the feeding of the nations—all creatures great and small are blessed by this food chain that begins with the trickle of God’s Word flowing from his mountain toward the roots of his trees.

“Oh the happiness…oh the blessedness,” the psalm writer says, of those who are rooted in God’s Word—whose health and vitality do not wither nor decay—who provide encouragement, health, and joy to the world around them. This is not just God’s vision of who we are—an orchard of thriving trees. This is who we are—and whose we are: God’s trees planted by streams of living water.

We are like another Tree God planted—the eternal Word sent from his heavenly throne to become flesh—springing from the root of Jesse—the Tree of Life with the River of Life flowing from him to his garden and orchard. The fruit of this Tree is forgiveness, life, and salvation—for the healing of the nations. From the tree of the Cross we also find the death of death and the end of winter. And from deep within the roots of the earth he rises to bring eternal springtime, harvest, and to make all things new. In a few moments, we will receive the fruit of that Tree—the Body and Blood of Jesus. The fruit of the Gospel heals our souls and strengthens our spirits until that day he takes us from this fallow world and plants us in Paradise. We will enter endless joy and blessedness. We will be planted beside the River of Life that flows from his eternal throne. We will be with Jesus, the Tree of Life forever.

Monday, April 18, 2022

“The Living One among the dead” (Luke 24:1-12)

Luke 24:1-12

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Pastor Tom Johnson, April 17, 2022

When Joseph of Arimathea takes Jesus’ dead body to the tomb, Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and other unnamed women follow. The women see where Jesus was buried and how his body was laid. They go back to Jerusalem to prepare spices and ointments. Early the next morning—just when the horizon started to glow with the promise of the rising Sun—the women make their way to the tomb where Jesus lay. They are courageous in the face of death and in the face of the Roman soldiers who guarded the tomb. They boldly go to find Jesus’ body among the dead. They find that the stone has been rolled away. They go into the tomb where they last saw the corpse wrapped in a linen cloth. But the body is no longer there. The women are perplexed—they are trying to understand what had happened.

It’s in that moment of profound bewilderment two angels appear in dazzling clothes. The word dazzling here is based on the New Testament word for lightning. They are dressed in blinding light. This brings terror to the women who must shield their faces and eyes…and buckle to the ground. The angels’ first word is a rhetorical question: “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” Literally, the question is, “Why do you seek the Living One among the dead ones?” The angels know why. Their question is meant to stir their memory. It is meant to stir their hearts with the rollicking truth of the resurrection. God sends his angels to intercept those who are lost in a graveyard. They are God’s messengers sent to redirect their futile pursuit of the Lord of Life in a place of death. 

The angels are blessèd riddlers. Their sense of humor is rooted in the irony of devoted women desperate to find a cadaver in a morgue when they should be going to the neonatal unit. For Jesus is the firstborn of the dead! What on earth are you doing, dear women? Don’t you remember what Jesus said—that he must suffer, be crucified and on the third day rise again from the dead? Your foolishness will be met with unsurpassable joy. We are not laughing at you but laughing with you—because soon you will get the punchline of life and the Living One! The defeat of sin, death, and the devil is not just glorious—it is hilarious. The angels are the jesters in this story. In the words of one theologian (Charles Campbell), “They are riddlers who bring truth. They melt the solidity of the old age that is dying. They call us into an unsettling new creation that is being born.” 

The angels have the advantage of being objective spectators and perfect servants of God. They can stand back and clearly see the big picture. And from how the angels ask this question, I think they find it amusing. It certainly brings them joy. They know the women are in for a beautiful and life-transforming surprise. In other words, the angels help the women and us see our own foolishness so that we can receive the surprising grace of God. 

We are invited to ask ourselves, “Why do we look for life in places of death?” Why do we keep going back to the graveyards of this world when we will never find the life-giving spirit of God there? Why do we keep going down paths that lead to dead-ends? Why do we pursue things that will never give us sustained happiness? The angels know that we will find no solace in the graveyards of this world. As Scripture says, “The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of our God will stand forever” (Isaiah 40:8). The angels’ rhetorical question stirs our minds. Their wit stirs our spirits. We gain perspective for our spiritual journey. Their riddle awakens us to a greater and more glorious reality. They call us to remember Jesus’ plan to suffer, die, and on the third day rise again. Resurrection was God’s punchline all along!

God sends these angels to graciously redirect us. God calls us to join our resurrected Lord on a different road—the road that leads to life everlasting. Like the women staring into the empty tomb, the only hope we have in the face of the heartbreaking reality of death is resurrection. Jesus is truly the Living One among the dead! He lives to bring hope to the hopeless. He is the source of life among the sad reality of death. He is raised from the dead so that death itself no longer has the final word. Resurrection is the final Word! The risen Christ is the answer to the riddle of life in the midst of perplexing death. For you, for me, and for the whole world…Jesus the Living One—the one who lives.

I know that my Redeemer lives;
What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, He lives, who once was dead;
He lives, my ever-living head.

He lives to silence all my fears;
He lives to wipe away my tears;
He lives to calm my troubled heart;
He lives all blessings to impart.

He lives and grants me daily breath;
He lives, and I shall conquer death;
He lives my mansion to prepare;
He lives to bring me safely there.
              (“I Know that My Redeemer Lives,” LSB 461, vv. 1, 5, & 7)

Alleluia. Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed, Alleluia!

Monday, April 11, 2022

“Forgive them” (Luke 23:34)

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Pastor Tom Johnson, April 10, 2022

“Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” 
—Luke 23:34

This is the first of seven sayings of Jesus when he was nailed to the Cross. They are astounding words. They are miraculous words. In this moment, Jesus reveals his divine nature—that he is truly “a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (Exod 34:6). 

Father, forgive them.” Jesus has direct access to the Father. He is speaking from his Sonship as the second Person of the Holy Trinity. The Eternal Son of God intercedes on behalf of those who mock and crucify him. Jesus loves and prays for his enemies just as he commands us. Jesus practices what he preaches.

“Father, forgive them.” Extraordinary. Jesus prays that God the Father forgive those around him who have so wickedly betrayed him, tortured him, mocked him, drove nails into his hands and feet, and dealt a death-blow to him on the cross. They did not pray for forgiveness. They did not ask Jesus to intercede on their behalf. They certainly do not deserve forgiveness. They no doubt deserve the same fate Jesus suffers on the Cross of Calvary. 

“Father, forgive them.” Them is not quantified. Them refers to all who are around him. The them that surround him are the religious leaders, politicians, the mobs, the Roman soldiers, Jews and Gentiles, and even those who mourned their loss. Them/They are the nations. They are we. Our sin—our treachery put Jesus of Nazareth to death.

“Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” Jesus’ forgiveness is astounding. Our ignorance is also astounding. We do not know what we are doing. Jesus prays for the forgiveness of our thoughtlessness, careless words, and misdeeds—the damage of which we may be blissfully unaware. As the prophet Ezekiel says, “The heart is devious above all else; it is perverse—who can understand it?” No mortal can. None of us understands the depth of our transgressions. Indeed, we are not aware of the death-grip evil can have on our lives. We do not know how devastating our offenses are—on others nor on ourselves. We have no clue how much harm we cause by our sins—sins of commission nor omission. But our ignorance is not innocence.

In recent days, Ukrainian hobbyists who once flew their drones to take pictures and videos featuring the beautiful landscape throughout Ukraine are now revealing the devastation, human atrocities, and alleged war crimes. It should not surprise us when world leaders feign ignorance—when those in power try to gaslight the world. They deny that their missiles, their tanks, and their guns lay waste to homes and lives of innocent people.  Indeed, they do not know what they are doing. They do not want to face the reality of what they are doing. Their wanton ignorance is not innocence. We pray, “God remove their guilt along with their ignorance so that they will turn from their evil ways.” 

It’s easy for any of us to point fingers. But Jesus does not just pray for those who abused their power to kill an innocent person. His words point to all humanity. That includes all those in human history leading up to the crucifixion and all of humanity that follows. That includes you and me. Like an impaired driver who leaves a trail of casualties and devastation behind, we also do not know what we are doing. We would rather not look into the mirror of the Law that reveals the stain of sin. Our ignorance is not innocence. As we will sing shortly:

Who was the guilty? Who brought this upon thee?
Alas, my treason, Jesus, hath undone thee!
’Twas I, Lord Jesus, I it was denied thee;
I crucified thee.

As the prophet Isaiah writes, “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have all turned to our own way, and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all” (Isa 53:6).  As collective humanity, we fail to understand the harm we cause and the fracture of our relationships with God and with one another. Our sin is woeful ignorance. We are held so captive by sin that we are not even aware of the devastation we have caused. It is mercy that Jesus would even point out our ignorance. It is mercy that Christ would graciously bring our sins out of the shadows into the fullness of his light. It is boundless and unfathomable mercy that Jesus would pray that God forgive us even when we are not even aware of the magnitude of the forgiveness we desperately need. Mercy upon mercy upon mercy. When Jesus is at the brink of suffering a cruel death, we would not expect the victim to pray for the perpetrators of evil! There is truth to the cliché: “To err is human. To forgive is divine” (Alexander Pope, 1711).

This is one of those moments in the suffering and death of Jesus that the light of his grace shines most brightly against the backdrop of our dark inhumanity. It is such good news it sounds too good to be true—for God the Father to answer this prayer of his crucified Son—to forgive all humanity though we are undeserving and unaware! It is through the Cross of Calvary that we most clearly see both the innocent victim and also the true and living God in the flesh of Jesus of Nazareth. We see both the cruelty and devastation of our collective sin and we see the grace, mercy, and love of God the Father and God the Son.

For me, kind Jesus, was thy incarnation,
Thy mortal sorrow, and thy life’s oblation;
Thy death of anguish and thy bitter passion,
For my salvation.
          (“Ah, Holy Jesus,” LBW 123, v. 4)