Showing posts with label Luke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Luke. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

That We Might Worship Without Fear

The Rev. Kathi Johnson
Zechariah and Elizabeth – 8 November 2017
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

What follows is my homily for worship this evening. The text appointed for the commemoration of Zechariah and Elizabeth is Luke 1:5-24, 57-79. But I refer heavily to the paraphrase of Zechariah's song in the hymn, "Blessed Be the God of Israel" (#250 in Evangelical Lutheran Worship).

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Confession: I chose this hymn because I knew it is a paraphrase of the so-called Song of Zechariah contained in Luke 1. I didn’t look over the words of this hymn again before putting it into the bulletin.

So, a few hours ago, as I looked the hymn over, I was struck by verse 2:

With promised mercy will God still the covenant recall,
the oath once sworn to Abraham, from foes to save us all;
that we might worship without fear and offer lives of praise,
in holiness and righteousness to serve God all our days.

These words have always struck my ear and my heart, but all the more so following the violence in Sutherland Springs last Sunday. Following yet another horrific attack in a place of worship, I’m not sure I know what to do with a hymn that tells me that God will save me from foes. I’m not sure I know what to do with a hymn that tells me I can worship without fear.

Today, I drove up to the headquarters of the Grand Prairie Police Department to attend an emergency meeting of the Grand Prairie Police and Clergy Coalition. The room was full to overflowing with clergy and officers. One of the SWAT officers gave us a brief presentation about a few safety measures churches can implement…that we might worship without fear.

The easiest measures to implement mainly have to do with paying more attention. Watching more. Looking out. And there was general agreement in the room that yes, it is sad that we have to take these measures in our places of worship. And my own heart sat heavily within me as I shook my head again and again – thinking about and considering ways we can pay more attention.

Yet, the more I have sat with all of this today, the more I have realized that the modern day calls to pay attention – to watch more – to look out – these calls also ring out through the ancient words of Scripture. The words of the prophets tell us again and again to pay attention – to watch – to look and see.

No, I do not believe that this tragedy or any other tragedy was sent by God to re-capture our attention.

But if we are to learn anything from it, surely the call to pay attention can be a call that we heed. Our lives as disciples of Jesus are best lived when we are intentional in our thoughts and deeds – Who is it that needs our care? Beyond offering thoughts and prayers, what actions can we take as a society to make violence more atypical?

Out of love for us, our God is always calling us to pay attention. Like the mother who tells her child to watch for the car coming on the street, or the father who holds his child’s hand in a busy parking lot – so is God. We are God’s – nothing changes that. Let us offer our lives in praise.

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Our love to the saints of First Baptist in Sutherland Springs.


Sunday, October 22, 2017

How Do You Say Thank You?

The Rev. Kathi Johnson
Stewardship 2 – 22 October 2017
Texts: Luke 17:11-19, 2 Corinthians 9:6-15
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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For today’s Gospel reading, we are taking a trip out of the Gospel of Matthew and over to the Gospel of Luke. The texts we’ve read today are actually those assigned for Thanksgiving Day. I re-appropriated them for today because of the connection between stewardship and thankfulness. More on that in a bit.

Today’s story about Jesus healing ten lepers is quintessential Luke. The gospel writer Luke was a physician, and so in his writing, there is often a focus on the healing work of Jesus. Today’s story of healing is a nice story on the surface, but underneath the surface are some important undercurrents.

The first is that we hear that Jesus is heading toward Jerusalem. He’s heading toward his own death, and he knows this, for by this point, he’s already predicted his death and his resurrection to his disciples.

He’s traveling between Samaria and Galilee – so right along the edges of what was considered safe territory for a Jew to be traveling. Which leads to another important undercurrent: that the Jews in Jesus’ time hated the Samaritans. So, not only is Jesus traveling near Samaria, but then, on his way, he heals these ten lepers, and we find out that at least one of them is a Samarian.

Not only that, but the good guy in the story is a Samarian. Remember the parable about the Good Samaritan? The good guy in that story is a Samaritan, too (another story that is only found in Luke). So it seems to me that Luke really wants us to understand that God does work in unexpected and mysterious ways.

What do you mean Jesus heals a Samaritan? What do you mean it’s the Samaritan who turns around and offers thanks and praise to God for his healing? Does God really accomplish such works in us, and…in others?

When you receive a gift or if someone does something nice for you, how do you say thank you? 

Do you ever forget to say thank you? 

There are different ways to show thankfulness when a person gives us something or does something nice for us. The trick is in the remembering – remembering to send that card or email or text. To say thank you takes our intentionality.

Likewise, there are different ways to show thankfulness to God, but here again, the trick is in the remembering. To say thank you, even to God, takes our intentionality.

How we take care of and use what God has given to us is one way in which we show intentionality. Beyond that, though, I’d say that generosity from a thankful heart takes intentionality – like Paul says in today’s lesson from 2 Corinthians: “Each of you must give as you have made up your mind…” and then he goes on to say that God loves cheerful givers. It is one thing to be generous; it is another to be cheerfully generous out of thankfulness for the gifts I have.

If I’m honest, Paul’s admonition about being a cheerful giver has always annoyed me a little, but that changed for me this past week. I was sitting in a drive-through line at Starbucks, and I wasn’t in such a good mood. I looked behind me and the person in that car looked like they were having a bad day. You know how you can just tell by looking?

As I sat there, this idea about being a cheerful giver came into my mind, and I realized that I could do something to try and improve the day of this person behind me, so when I got to the window I paid for their order. I don’t know if her day got better or not – it’s not like I asked her – but I know my mood was lifted because I was able to give something away. I also know that I was surprised that this verse came to my mind in that setting, and surprised at the cheerfulness that accompanied my giving.



There’ve been other times that I’ve been the recipient of that particular gift. I’ve gotten up to the window of the drive-through, and the person ahead of me has already paid for my order. Whenever that’s happened, my whole day has been transformed by the simple act of someone’s generosity. Perhaps you have seen or given or received similar generosity in your lifetime.

We are cheerful givers if we are cheerful recipients of the gifts we have. Cheerfulness doesn’t have to do with being perky and all smiles – rather, it’s an attitude of joy that comes from realizing that everything we have is from God, who loves us.

But Paul also lifts up the intentionality that is to be a part of our generosity. Today, you’re receiving pledge cards for 2018, and I’m not asking you to fill these out now – but I am asking you to take these home. Some people love using pledge cards, and others never use them. If you aren’t used to filling out a pledge card, that’s OK. Regardless, I invite you to use this as a tool as you pray about what your financial commitment to Our Redeemer will be next year. This is a tool for intentionality.



Next week is Reformation Sunday – a day upon which we will celebrate the reforming and renewing work God has done in the Church. Here at Our Redeemer, we will also collect these cards and the ministry commitment forms, and with thankful hearts, we will offer all of our commitments to God, the one who heals us and the one who loves us. God is the one to whom we offer our thanks and praise – and in so doing, we are just like that tenth leper who turned around to say thank you to Jesus.

Lastly, as your pastor, I want to say thank you. For your commitment to this congregation, whatever that may be.
Thank you for your witness to the love of God, and your faithfulness in living out the gospel. You are a blessing.

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Sunday, November 13, 2016

By your endurance you will gain your souls




C Lectionary 33 – 13 November 2016
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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“By your endurance you will gain your souls,” says Jesus. And with those words to his listeners, carried through the centuries to us in the Gospel of Luke, we all realize again that following Jesus is not as simple or as easy as some would have us believe. How do we gain our souls? By walking along pathways that are trailed with beautiful roses and lit by moonlight all the time?

No. We gain our souls through endurance – which can only mean one thing, really: that we’re going to have to endure some things.

Jesus lists a whole bunch of things here: the destruction of the Temple, false messiahs, wars, insurrections, nation rising against nation, earthquakes, famines, plagues, dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. All of this sounds bad enough. But then he goes on to say that some of his followers will be arrested, some will be persecuted, some will be made to give testimony before kings and governors, some will be betrayed by ones they call family and ones they call friends. And all of this will happen not because they voted Democrat or Republican or Independent, or didn’t vote at all – it will happen because they’ve chosen to follow Jesus.

Following Jesus in the First Century was a criminal act; his disciples followed him anyway. Following Jesus in the First Century led to arrest and persecution and unjust trials and betrayal by family and friends – all of this is well-documented in Scripture and in non-biblical historical writings; his disciples followed him anyway. Following Jesus in the First Century was certainly no walk on a rosy path lit by moonlight; it certainly wasn’t as safe as it is for us now; his disciples followed him anyway.

What was so compelling about this man that they chose to follow him?

Was it his military prowess or might? No…

Was it his extraordinary intelligence? No…

A clue can be found earlier in Luke, as Jesus’ reputation is growing. More and more people from the countryside are hearing about this man named Jesus – this teacher, this healer, this one who feeds people – and they begin to follow him. “A great prophet has risen among us!” they say, and “God has looked favorably on his people!”[1] For centuries, the people of God had been waiting – they had been enduring – and they could tell that this was the One through whom they would gain their very souls.

Of course they choose to follow him, some of them choosing to give up everything to follow him.

Fast forward from the time of Jesus to the time of the Apostle Paul – not too much forward. One of the churches that Paul has started is in a city named Thessalonica. Paul wrote two letters to the Christians in Thessalonica, and both contain encouragement for the people there – people who are wondering the same thing that the Jews wondered for centuries – how long do we have to endure? They are waiting - they are eager - for Jesus’ Second Coming.

They’re so eager, in fact, that some of them have stopped working. “If Jesus is coming back any day now, then why should we work?” was the reasoning. The problem was what they chose to do with their idleness. Tucked away in the Greek meaning of the word translated as “idleness” is the word “disruptive.” So, in their idleness, some of the Thessalonians are causing problems for their communities and causing trouble within the Church. Paul wraps up his exhortation to the Thessalonians by saying to them, “Brothers and sisters, do not be weary in doing what is right.”

We live in another time of waiting – another time of enduring. For still, the people of God wait for Christ’s Second Coming. And as much as we want to believe that our waiting will be all moonlight and roses all the time, both Scripture and our own experience help us realize that no, we’re going to have to endure some things. And the day-to-day enduring makes us tired – bone tired – soul tired – maybe even more deeply tired than we’ve ever been before.

And when we are tired –more deeply tired than we’ve ever been before, we grow weary of doing what is right. I’ve seen it, I’ve heard the stories, and I’ve experienced it first-hand.

I don’t know about you, but I feel as though we are going through a hell of our own making: a hellish time of people so tired that they’ve grown weary of doing what is right again, and again, and again. It makes the words of our Confession so meaningful: “We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.”

This hell of our own making may be followed by yet another hell if we don’t grasp a hold of who we are as the people of God, and grasp a hold of it quickly. As the people of God, we are called to love God and to love our neighbor as ourselves.

In Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, he makes it clear to them that – as Christians - we are called to be ministers of reconciliation. We are called to that work – it doesn’t fall to that person over there, or that person over there – we are called to be ministers of reconciliation in Christ’s name. And that doesn’t mean that we just glaze over everything – as ministers of reconciliation, we should be quick to listen and slow to speak.

There are many who are very quick to speak – they are very quick to give pithy answers to our nation’s sins of racism, sexism, and other forms of discrimination. They have forgotten that we are to be quick to listen – quick to listen to people like me and others who are hurt by these sins time and again. There are no quick fixes – we are going to have to endure some things – together.

My sisters and brothers, God has given to us the great gifts of grace and mercy and love, and these are beautiful gifts indeed. As ministers of reconciliation, let’s use these gifts for the benefit of others, remembering that – even when we are weary - it is the love of Christ that urges us on.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

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[1] Luke 7:16

Sunday, September 25, 2016

Who is Worthy of Our Compassion?



C Lectionary 26 
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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When reading today’s parable about the Rich Man and Lazarus, it is good to remember the purpose of the parables of Jesus. Dr. David Lose is the President of our ELCA seminary in Philadelphia, and he is a prolific Lutheran biblical commentator. In his explanation of this parable, he reminds us that the parables of Jesus don’t give us the whole picture, but rather just a glimpse of the Kingdom of God[1].

So, the parables are not meant to be predictive, but rather they reveal to us some greater truth about God and God’s kingdom. In the case of this parable, which only appears in the Gospel of Luke, the greater truth that is revealed is God’s concern for the poor.

The Gospel of Luke, more than the other three gospel books, tends to focus on reversals of expectations. It begins back in the first chapter of Luke, with the Song of Mary – which we call the Magnificat. Mary says that God has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts, that God has brought down the powerful and exalted the humble, and filled those who are hungry and sent the rich away empty. All reversals of expectations…

Later in chapter one, it is Zechariah – the father of John the Baptist – who says that God will give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. It is in the Gospel of Luke that we find Jesus the most focused upon the poor, the sick, the demon-possessed – those whom society has cast out or forgotten - those who lie at the gates of the rich, ignored and passed by.

That was Lazarus in our story today. We are given grotesque details about his health, and while we might think of dogs as being cute and cuddly, in Jesus’ time, dogs were seen as filthy animals, not fit to spend time around humans. The dogs licking Lazarus is a part of the story meant to underscore his extreme poverty. He is not only poor, but he is exceedingly poor.

Contrast this with the rich man – the rich, unnamed man – who dresses in purple and fine linen. These details show us that he is very rich indeed, for only the most wealthy people could afford to wear purple, which was an expensive color to produce. Jesus says that the rich man eats his fill and then some every single day – he has more than enough. He is not only rich, but he is exceedingly rich.

Jesus uses these strong images to describe these two men in order to set them apart from one another – far apart – across a great chasm.

When they die, another chasm exists between the two men. Lazarus now knows only comfort, and the rich man now knows only torment – a reversal of expectations. The rich man begs Abraham to send Lazarus to warn his five brothers who are still living – to warn them not to make the mistakes he did. He wants Lazarus to tell them to pay attention to the poor among them, to care for the poor as he did not during his life.

But Abraham reminds him that Moses and the prophets have plenty to say about caring for the poor – maybe his brothers should listen to them. The rich man knows his brothers won’t listen to Moses or the prophets, so he wants a more powerful witness than that – send them Lazarus! Send them someone who has died and come back to life! Surely they will listen to someone who has risen from the dead!

And Jesus ends his parable with one heck of a punch line: If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.

In listening to this parable, we can feel sorry for Lazarus at the beginning of the story and for the rich man at the end of the story. But beyond our sympathy, we should also realize that we are like the five brothers of the rich man. We are the ones who are still living. We are the ones who still have a chance to listen to the voice of one who has risen from the dead. We are the ones who are called to listen to the voice of Jesus, who says that the greatest commandments are to love God and to love our neighbor.

The chasm between rich and poor still exists and has only grown wider since Jesus’ time. But more concerning than that is another chasm that exists, even among Christian people: there is a chasm between those whom we think are worthy of our compassion, and those whom we think are unworthy of our compassion.

And yet we are all bound together as one human family, and as Christians, we recognize that we are loved by a compassionate God who, in turn, calls us to extend compassion to others – through our prayers for them, our understanding of their sufferings, and our loving deeds on their behalf.

St. Gregory the Great lived in Italy in the 6th century - a time of great upheaval. A plague swept across the region, killing close to a third of the population. There was tremendous political unrest, as well. Yet in these most difficult of circumstances, Gregory realized that we are all connected, one to another. He said, “When we are linked by the power of prayer, we…hold each other’s hand as we walk side by side on a slippery path, and thus by the bounteous disposition of love, it comes about that the harder each one leans on the other, the more firmly we are riveted together in brotherly love.”

It’s an interesting image, isn’t it – the image of two people leaning into one another while they walk on the edge of a slippery slope? I feel as though so much of our public discourse today focuses more on giving that other person a good shove, instead. And yet, Gregory the Great has captured beautifully the image of the Christian life as it should be – individuals, who are linked by prayer, which binds us together in the great love of Christ.

As for you, pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, and gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. To God be honor and eternal dominion. Amen.

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[1] workingpreacher.org, 2013

Sunday, September 11, 2016

We are lost; then we are found; and then what?




Lectionary 24, Year C – 11 September 2016
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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When our gospel story opens today, Jesus is surrounded by tax collectors and sinners. They are surrounding him in order to listen to his teachings and presumably to learn from him. Also gathered nearby are the Pharisees and the scribes and they aren’t happy. They see all these “undesirables” gathered around Jesus and they cannot believe the company he’s keeping. They start to grumble against Jesus, saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

So, Jesus responds with some parables, and he talks first about a shepherd who leaves 99 sheep to go look for the one who’s wandered off. Then he talks about a woman who turns her house upside down to find a lost coin. When both the lost sheep and the lost coin are found, there is joy for the shepherd and the woman. Jesus likens that joy to the joy in heaven whenever a sinner repents.

In other words, to Jesus, finding the lost is a really big deal.

On a theological level, these parables remind us that God finds us because God loves us. Like our Hymn of the Day, which we will sing in a few minutes, says – we once were lost, but now we’re found. God is the shepherd, searching for the sheep. God is the woman, searching for the coin. We are found by God, we are saved by God, we are lifted up by God.

And these are all helpful reminders to those of us who live lives of faith.

 But this past week, I reflected pretty intently upon the life of a woman who was recently canonized by the Roman Catholic Church. The woman we know as Mother Teresa of Calcutta became Saint Teresa of Calcutta officially last Sunday. We remembered this saint in our Wednesday worship this past week, and I was so moved by a particular story of hers that I am sharing it in part here again. These were Mother Teresa’s words, from her Nobel Prize acceptance speech in 1979:

“The poor are very wonderful people. One evening we went out and we picked up four people from the street…[There was a] man whom we picked up from the drain… and we brought him to the home. He said: ‘I have lived like an animal in the street, but I am going to die like an angel, loved and cared for.’

And it was so wonderful to see the greatness of that man who could speak like that, who could die like that without blaming anybody, without cursing anybody, without comparing anything. Like an angel - this is the greatness of our people. And that is why we believe what Jesus had said: ‘I was hungry - I was naked - I was homeless - I was unwanted, unloved, uncared for - and you did it [for] me.’”[1]

She is here referring to Matthew 25 when Jesus is telling his disciples that whatever they do to care for the least of these, they do for him, as well. And whatever they don’t do to care for the least of these, they are not doing for him.

This man whom Mother Teresa found – the one who died in her care – she knew he could not save him physically, and she knew that saving his spirit was in the hands of God. And so, she did what she could to provide for him so that he could die at peace, knowing love and care.

Mother Teresa lived her whole adult life searching for the lost, searching for the poor, searching for those whom everyone else in society had discarded. She spent her ministry looking for and caring for those whom Jesus calls the least of these. Moved by the very Spirit of God, Mother Teresa realized something very early on in her long life of service – she realized that God finds us because God loves us, and she realized that God wanted her to search for the lost. And so, search for them, she did.

We are lost; then we are found; and then what?

Our baptismal lives are not to be only lived for ourselves. Our baptismal covenant puts it perfectly: We are to live among God’s faithful people, learning the word of God and receiving the holy supper, having our faith strengthened by teaching and nurtured through prayer so that we trust God, proclaim Christ through word and deed, care for others and the world God made, and work for justice and peace.

God finds us, and God uses us to search for those who have seemingly been lost to everyone. In today’s gospel lesson, the Pharisees and scribes complain that Jesus is keeping company with sinners. Yet Jesus doesn’t just keep company with sinners – Jesus seeks them out! And not only sinners - but also the sick, the poor, the hungry, the despised, the forgotten. Jesus seeks them out!

The world at times seems very big to me, and very full of problems. There is no way I can fix them all – there is no way that anyone can. But what we can do is serve the part of the world that God has entrusted to us, and we can serve it faithfully and with love, so that our little part of the big world shines brightly with the light of Christ.



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[1] From her Nobel Prize acceptance speech, 1979. Found at http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/laureates/1979/teresa-lecture.html