Showing posts with label Isaiah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Isaiah. Show all posts

Thursday, December 14, 2017

Good News!

The Rev. Kathi Johnson
B Advent 2 – 10 December 2017
Texts: Isaiah 40:1-11 and Mark 1:1-8
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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Think for a moment about a time when you got some good news…

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Well, just like we get good news in our own lives, we also get good news from Scripture, and we have good news in our lesson from Isaiah 40 today. This part of Isaiah was written for people who were living in exile after being forcibly removed from their homeland. That’s a pretty difficult circumstance. And what does this prophet offer to them but these words of hope: “Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.”

To those who are living in exile, the prophet says that while they are in need of comfort, God is aware of their need, and that comfort from God is on the way. God will lift up the low places and lower the high places, God will smooth the rough roadways, and we will see the glory of the LORD. These are the promises of God.

Our lesson from the gospel of Mark gives us good news, too – and it tells us, plainly, that this is “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God,” and that’s how Mark starts off his gospel. In Mark, there is no Christmas story – there are no angels singing in the hills or shepherds coming to worship a newborn king. Mark’s entry point into the good news of Jesus Christ is with John the Baptist – the one who is to prepare the way for the coming of Jesus.

The good news of John’s message is that God is dwelling with us in an astonishing way – in the person of Jesus, but also with the gift of the Holy Spirit. “I have baptized you with water,” says John, “but [Jesus] will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” The good news of Jesus Christ isn’t only contained to the stories of Scripture – it’s good news for us now, through the work of the Holy Spirit in and among us. So it is that the presence of God continues with us to this day, giving us strength, giving us faith, and giving us hope.

Someone we hear a lot about at this time of year is St. Nicholas. The historical person named St. Nicholas lived in the Third and Fourth Centuries after Christ. He was a bishop from Asia Minor – in modern day Turkey. Nicholas was one of the bishops who was present at the First Council of Nicaea and he signed off on the Nicene Creed (the same creed we use from time to time in our worship).

Like many of the ancient saints, there are many stories and traditions that have developed about St. Nicholas over the centuries. One version of one the most famous of these stories is a story of good news:

There was a poor man who had three daughters. Being poor, the father couldn’t afford proper dowries for his daughters, so they would likely remain unmarried. As young, poor, unmarried women, they would most likely become prostitutes, for lack of other employment.

St. Nicholas heard about this family and decided to help them, but didn’t want them to feel shame publicly by taking his charity. One night, he went to their house and threw three bags of gold coins down the chimney. One of the daughters had hung her stockings up by the chimney to dry, and the bag of coins fell into her stocking.



The good news for this family was, of course, that the man finally had dowries for his daughters, and so the family was saved from a life of poverty, and the girls were saved from a life of prostitution.

During Advent, the good news of God’s love for us is shown to us, slowly, again and again. This week, we hear in Isaiah that our hope is placed in a God who promises to care for us as a shepherd cares for his flock: feeding us, gathering us, carrying us, leading us. Each week of Advent, we hear more and more of this good news until, finally, on Christmas Eve, we fully hear and celebrate that Jesus Christ has come to us as God’s love, in the flesh.

There is plenty of bad news in the world, and there always has been. But the good news of God’s love remains with us, always, and in this love is our hope. And we are not called simply to sit back in our faith and put our feet up. We are called to proclaim like a herald the good news of God’s love for all.

Who in your life could use some good news? Maybe you can’t dump gold coins down their chimney – but consider instead offering them the good news of God’s love for them. Consider inviting them to worship with us here on Christmas Eve, or another time when you will be here.

Lift up your voice with strength, and herald the good tidings: God is with us today, and always.
Amen.
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Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Snow on Snow...

The Rev. Kathi Johnson
16 July 2017
Texts: Isaiah 55:10-13 and Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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I’m going to begin this morning by asking you to stretch your imaginations. The current heat index is ___ and so this is really going to tax your brain – but I’d like you to imagine that you’re standing somewhere, looking over an expanse of snow.

Everywhere you look, you see the white snow. It covers tree branches and roadways, it sits on top of mailboxes and cars, the snow makes flower beds and grass turn into one, big, white expanse.

You take a step out into the snow, and realize it’s deeper than you thought. A crust of ice has formed on the top, so your steps are marked with a loud CRUNCH sound as your foot makes its way through that crust of ice and onto the snow beneath. CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH, you walk.

It’s hard to imagine this scene now, but it happens, every year, if not here, than in other places I have lived and visited – Colorado, Wisconsin, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Maine. The cool rains of Fall turn into the cold snows of winter – snow on snow, snow on snow, as one Christmas hymn puts it.


The prophet Isaiah writes about snow in today’s first reading, reminding us that it is not only rain that waters the earth, but also the snow, coming down from heaven. This part of the book of Isaiah was written to a people who were living in exile from their homeland – people who were forced to leave behind everything familiar, everything precious, and then live in a far away land.

And so Isaiah offers them the image of rain and snow watering the earth to remind them that even rain and snow offer us hope. They offer us hope because they water the earth, the same earth that nourishes the seed, the same seed that grows into wheat, to be turned into bread, the same bread which feeds us daily. The rain and snow may not look like much – they cause our shoes to get muddy and our feet to get wet – but they have a job to do, helping things to grow.

Right before today’s passage, Isaiah reminds us that God’s ways are not our ways, and God’s thoughts are not our thoughts, so we can’t just look at the surface. Our hope comes in what God is growing underneath the surface – beneath the surface of what we can see with our own vision.



And Isaiah’s word of hope for God’s people doesn’t end there, for we also hear that God’s word doesn’t return to God empty. So if we return to the first image I shared at the beginning – think again about that crusty snow, but this time, think of what’s underneath that snow. Think about the branches and roads and mailboxes and cars, but then think even lower than that – think about the hard earth underneath the snow. And think about the seeds that have been cast onto the paths, into the rocks, among the thorns, and onto the good soil. The rain and snow nourish them all – and growth can happen anywhere, even in places we don’t see it.

Now, in Jesus’ parable of the sower that I just read – admittedly, Jesus says that some seeds do better under certain circumstances than other seeds in other circumstances. But the miracle of this story is not found in the fact that a seed can sprout among the rocks or among the thorns, or feed a bird that is eating on a pathway.

The miracle of this story is that the sower casts the seed into these places to begin with.

In Jesus’ day, seed was expensive. A true sower wouldn’t have wasted seed on paths or rocky soil or thorny places. That would make about as much sense as us casting those wildflower seeds in the middle of our parking lot, instead of out in the field, like we did a couple of years ago.

But the sower in Jesus’ parable has a different vision for the world. The sower wants the seed to go everywhere, realizing that sometimes, growth happens anywhere, even in the places we don’t see it. The sower isn’t concerned with efficient farming; the sower is more concerned with returning the seed to the earth, where it belongs. There is an abundance in his method – an abundance in the way he casts the seeds, not too worried about exactly where they land.

If we look around at the people assembled in any Christian gathering, there will be those who seem to be living the “good Christian life,” and those who are struggling. There will be people we like, people we dislike, people who make us feel comfortable, and people who we just don’t understand, no matter how hard we try.

To use an example from our own context: it’s Day Camp week, and there might be kids here that week who we may look at and think, “What work is God possibly doing in them?” There might be a family who seems – on the surface – to be completely unmoved by the love of God.

Even in our daily lives, we may look at someone, and wonder - what is God doing beneath the surface of that relative for whom I’ve been praying, or in the life of that noisy kid in the grocery store, or in the heart of the person who seems so unfriendly? We may think: there’s nothing that God could be doing in them.

Or inside our own hearts, we may feel that we’re beyond God’s reach. That seed of God’s love couldn’t possibly be thrown far enough to reach into the rockiest place of my own heart, could it?

But the parable of the sower reminds us what Isaiah also reminds us: that God’s ways are not our ways. God is the sower who casts love out there with abandon. God’s love falls into the hearts of the people in whom we would least suspect it, and growth can happen anywhere, even in places we don’t see it. The rain and the snow come down from heaven and water even the tiniest of seeds - seeds that sprout and grow.

Amen.

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Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Arise, Shine; For Your Light Has Come...

"For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples;
but the LORD will arise upon you, and his glory will appear of you."
(Isaiah 60:2)


The Rev. Kathi Johnson
Midweek Advent Worship – December 17, 2014
Texts: Isaiah 60:1-3, 19-20 and Luke 1:68-79 (Song of Zechariah)
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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Who do you know that lives in darkness?

This is the time of year that seems to call the darkness out for some people. This Sunday is the shortest day and the longest night. This is the time of year when I as a pastor sometimes find myself telling someone to ignore the Christmas lights and holiday cheer this year, if you have to. Because sometimes the twinkling lights and sparkling cheer are too much to bear.

Who do you know that lives in darkness?

You might think that there is no one in your life who is living in darkness, and maybe – just maybe – that is true. But I think if we are really honest in our relationships with others, we can think of someone – even if it’s an acquaintance – who is living in darkness right now because of whatever circumstances.

Maybe it’s not a thick darkness, like what Isaiah refers to in tonight’s lesson. Sometimes darkness is thin enough that, every so often, some light gets through – like the low clouds we had in the sky today. But I think if we are really honest, each of us in this room could pull up at least one name of one person we know who is living in darkness right now.

The thing with darkness is that even though it isn’t a permanent state, when you are sitting in darkness, it can feel permanent. When we are sitting in thick darkness, it can feel as though light will never shine again.

And so, the question is, who will bear the light for those who live in darkness?

For me - in my darkest hours - it’s been family members and friends, it’s been you, it’s been Steve, it’s even been total strangers.

“Arise, shine; for your light has come,” Isaiah writes. Our light has come – the Light of the World, Jesus. And we are called to be bearers of that light – called, like John the Baptist – called, like so many before us who have carried the light to us and for us when we have sat in darkness ourselves.

Who do you know that lives in darkness?

If it is you – if you are living in darkness - be encouraged. Sit in the darkness for a while if you must, but remember that the light is still there, waiting to pierce your darkness, for the Lord is our everlasting light.

If it is not you – if you are not living in darkness - remember that the Lord is our everlasting light. And remember that we are called to carry that light to those who sit in darkness. 

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Sunday, December 7, 2014

Good News!

"...the uneven ground shall become level..."


The Rev. Kathi Johnson
Advent 2, Year B – December 7, 2014
Texts: Isaiah 40:1-11 and Mark 1:1-8
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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Grace and peace are yours, from God our Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

It was the summer of 1972. A young Air Force Lieutenant was on assignment in Southeast Asia. He’d just returned to their base in Taiwan to find six letters from his new wife waiting for him. He opened each letter in order by date, and in the last one, found the good news that would change their lives forever: the lieutenant’s wife was pregnant with their first child!

This news was so good that my dad talked over and over about that moment of reading that letter from my mom. He’d been listening to a recording of bagpipe music – and the tune they were playing in that moment of good news was none other than “Amazing Grace”. In his letter to my mother, he said, “[s]omehow, every time I hear that hymn it will bring back all the memories of that moment for me.”[1] The good news of my impending arrival stayed with him, and he shared the story of receiving that news like one shares a cup of cold water with your best friend on a hot day.

We have good news in Isaiah today. This section of Isaiah was written to Israelites who were living in exile – their people had been removed from their homeland by an occupying force - removed in tears and sorrow and judgment. Just what does the prophet say to a group who’s living in exile from their homeland?

“Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain.
Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together,
for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

This word of good news is saying to those in exile: “Yes, you are in need of comfort. Comfort is coming to you. And I, the LORD, will lift up the low places and lower the high places. I will make level all those rough patches that trip you up. You will see my glory. I promise it.”

And as one author says, “These words are not the glib musings of the comfortable but the trusting cries of those who see beyond the present dimness.”[2] This prophet knows that God’s people are hurting in exile. He knows that they feel that they are beyond the grasp of where God can reach. And so he tells the herald to get up to the highest mountain he can find, and share the good news that “[God] will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.”

We have good news in Mark today, too. We’ve moved away from the darkened sun and moon and the falling stars of last week – back to the beginning – “[t]he beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God,” as Mark tells it, anyway. The good news of Jesus Christ, to Mark, begins with John the Baptist preparing the way for the arrival of Jesus, the Son of God. In Mark, the good news about Jesus doesn’t begin with dreams or visits of angels, but with a flesh-and-blood man, telling people that Jesus is coming – so get ready.

Where on earth is the good news in that?

The good news is found in John the Baptist’s promise that God is breaking into our lives to dwell with us in a remarkable way. “I have baptized you with water;” John says, “but he [- Jesus -] will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” And so Jesus brings with him the promise of the Holy Spirit – the same Spirit who calls us to faith, who strengthens us in faith, and who enlightens our darkened hearts with the very light of Christ.

Here we are in Advent again. It is during Advent that the good news of Jesus Christ is slowly revealed to us – revealed more and more each week - until finally, on Christmas, we see Good News in the flesh: God with us. This good news of Jesus Christ reaches into all of our news - good, bad, and indifferent – and covers us with the love of God.

The good news of Jesus Christ may not always mean very much to us. The good news of Jesus Christ might get drowned out from time to time, by our own very good news, or even by our own very bad news. Many days, we might not think about the good news of Jesus Christ much at all.

But the good news is still there – it remains with us, even when everything else around us is changing and shifting, in times of joy and in times of sorrow. The good news remains with us, even when all the news on the TV and the internet seems to indicate that there is no good news, anywhere. The love of God in Jesus Christ remains with us always – nothing can separate us from this great love.[3]

Think about the last time you received some good news. Maybe it was some news from a family member or a friend, or something at work or school. What did you do after you received the news? Hopefully, you joyfully told others all about it.

This same joy is how we should talk about the good news of Jesus Christ. There are people who have been hurt – deeply injured – by Christians and by the Church – in many different ways. And yet, we are called to be bearers of good news – the good news of Jesus Christ – the good news that God loves us so much that Jesus came here, to live as one of us.

I recognize that it is not always easy to talk about our faith in Jesus. It can seem fake or embarrassing or like you’re trying to sell a used car. My advice, then, is not to talk about Jesus like he’s a used car. Think about your own faith – think about the good news of Jesus in your own life. Think about ways you’ve seen God at work in your life, and in the lives of those around you, and in the life of this congregation.

Think about all of this, and then begin talking about it with others as you can. Invite someone to join you here – Christmas Eve is a natural time for someone to visit a church. Instead of thinking of yourself as convincing someone to believe in Jesus, think of yourself as bearing good news.

For that is what we are all called to do – each and every one of us is called to bear good news.

Amen.

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[1] Personal letter from RCI to DWI, dated July 1, 1972.
[2] From Laurence Hul Stookey’s book, Calendar: Christ’sTime for the Church. Abingdon Press in Nashville. p. 124.
[3] Romans 8:38-39



Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Stubborn Dandelions and Tenacious Hope



The Rev. Kathi Johnson
Midweek Advent – Week 1 – December 3, 2014
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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Of all the seasons of the Church Year, Advent is the season that focuses us on hope. In this time before Christmas, what is it that we hope for? A particular gift? For peace within family celebrations? For safe travel for ourselves or our loved ones? What else?

The first lesson we read together tonight, from Isaiah 11, begins with a word of hope for us: “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots.” Immediately before this verse, the prophet has spent quite a few verses describing the judgment that God will bring upon his people. The image he uses to describe this judgment is the almost complete destruction of a forest. And this judgment comes because of their arrogance and their lack of concern for the poor and the widows and the orphans among them – in other words, those at the bottom of society.

“A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots.” After the forest is wiped out, there is still hope, the prophet says. There is still hope because God’s will arcs to love and to life – and because of God’s love and life, a shoot springs up from the deadened stump, and then a branch grows.

Outside the back door of our home, there is a concrete walkway. It sits right next to our house, almost up against the foundation. And there, in the small little space between the walkway and the house, grows a dandelion - one ridiculous little dandelion plant that springs up. I pull it – it comes back. It’s a stubborn plant.

Hope takes tenacity. Hope must be relentlessly stubborn at times. Hope gets cemented over by the hard world we live in – a world full of every violent image that can stand opposed to the peaceful images we are offered in Isaiah 11 tonight. In our world, wolves tear up lambs and children get bitten by snakes.

But the words of the prophet offer us hope that busts through the hardness – hope that grows bigger and bigger – first a shoot, then a branching tree. It is a hope that reminds us that God has all things well in hand. As Julian of Norwich said, “All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”

Amen.

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