Don't You Care That We Are Perishing?

The Rev. Kathi Johnson

24 June 2018

Mark 4:35-40

On that day, when evening had come, [Jesus] said to them, “Let’s go across to the other side.” And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care that we are perishing?” He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” 

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“Don’t you care that we are perishing?”

A few years ago, I was walking our dog Abby. We went down our driveway and turned onto the street, then turned a corner onto another street. That street curves around to hit the main road, and as we walked toward the main road, I saw two huge dogs running down the road. Abby, who is fourteen pounds of fierce, and who doesn’t have an unspoken thought, began to bark at them, calling their attention to us. 

As soon as they began running toward us, I scooped up Abby and in my biggest voice said, “NO” to those dogs. They didn’t listen. They jumped up on me, again and again, their powerful jaws snapping at us and their powerful legs almost knocking me over. I screamed again and again for help, and it felt like an eternity before someone heard us. “Don’t you care that we are perishing?”

Finally, a teenager across the street came running over, while the family whose driveway I was in came out of their home. The teenager created a diversion and the family let me run into their house, Abby still in my arms. We collapsed in their front hallway - exhausted, shaking, but alive.

“Don’t you care that we are perishing?” It’s a question that pierces us to our very soul, if we actually listen to it. 

The disciples in the boat with Jesus are seasoned fishermen, so that must’ve been quite a storm to frighten them. The boat is swamped, the text says, and they are in danger of sinking. And there is Jesus, curled up like a cat on a cushion, fast asleep and oblivious to the danger that the boat is now in. What a way to be awakened, by a bunch of disciples yelling, “Don’t you care that we are perishing?”

Who in your life is asking this question? Maybe a friend who is sinking under a weight of depression or other illness. Or a family member who is overwhelmed by life. Or maybe, the person asking the question is you: “Don’t you care that we are perishing?”

Who in our world is asking this question? Immigrant children wrestled from their parents’ arms, or parents whose children are taken from them as they are only trying to provide a better life for their families. They are escaping the ravages of violence in their own homelands and trying to find a better place – can you blame them? “Don’t you care that we are perishing?”

This past week, I preached a sermon in class in which I was reflecting on this humanitarian crisis and the various responses to it. One response I’ve seen is that by us caring what happens to these families who are separated from one another, it somehow limits our ability to care about others who are in need. And I said in that sermon that I’ve been left pondering the question: Is there really a limit on our capacity to care about other people? 

And yet - we are called to love God and to love our neighbors as ourselves, and so I have to believe and trust that the same God who calls me to these commandments will give me the strength and grace to perform them. God – who has limitless capacity for love - calls us to love God with all our hearts, and with all our souls, and with all our minds, and with all our strength, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. These are the two great commandments, Jesus says, so that must mean something.

And whether it is a friend, family member, or stranger, loving every neighbor means that we do care about them, that we do care that they are perishing, and that we use care in how we think about them, how we speak about them, and how we provide help in their times of need. 

If you don’t understand how this will happen, have faith! The God of limitless love will provide the means. Are we able to allow God to open our hearts?

At the end of that day when Abby and I were attacked, I posted about the incident on Facebook, saying that the people who helped likely saved Abby’s life. Someone cared, and someone acted to save us.

In our story from Mark today, Jesus stands up and quiets the storm, and this shows us the very power of God. God doesn’t calm every storm in our lives right away, and in fact, some of them rage on for quite a while. But Jesus standing up in the face of that storm and telling it to settle down shows us that God is able to work in the world. 

Sometimes, the work of God needs our hands and our feet. Sometimes, the work of God needs our hearts to be open so that we can be about the work of caring for those who are in need. The good news of God in Jesus Christ is that God loves us. But God doesn’t only love us for our own sakes, but for the sake of the world. 

Amen.

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Abby: never with an unspoken thought.

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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What if...?

The Rev. Kathi Johnson

B Lectionary 28 – 11 October 2015

Text: Mark 10:17-31

Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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When I was growing up, I loved to read. At one point, I was introduced to a type of fiction called “Choose Your Own Adventure” books – these were books that had two endings. So you’d read along, and, depending on which ending you chose, the characters would have completely different experiences.

I remember that when I first encountered one of these types of books, I felt apprehensive. Stories are supposed to have beginnings, middles, and endings. Just give it to me, whatever it is. What do you mean, I get to choose my own ending?

I had a similar feeling this week as I was preparing to preach on this text from Mark 10, specifically, when I encountered a commentary that completely changed the possible ending of this story of the Rich Man and Jesus. The most common understanding of this tory is based on the assumption that the Rich Man turns away from Jesus and doesn’t follow him.

So, I’m going to read the Gospel lesson, and I want you to hold that assumption in your mind as you listen to the story…(click here to read the lesson)

This interpretation certainly makes sense to us. The text, after all, in no way indicates that the Rich Man comes back to Jesus later on, having sold his possessions and given the money to the poor. In this first scenario, the Rich Man’s sadness is based on his realization that he just doesn’t want to follow Jesus badly enough to give up all his wealth, and everything that his wealth brings him.

Then, as now, wealth gives a certain identity. Then, as now, wealth gives power and almost unfettered access. Then, as now, wealth gives control (or at least a sense of control) and the ability to be independent. When Jesus tells the Rich Man to sell everything he has, he knows what he’s asking the Rich Man to give up. He also knows there will be a struggle in the sacrifice because he tells the disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!”

In this first scenario, the Rich Man chooses to walk away, leaving Jesus behind.

But…what if, later on, he came back? What if he did do as Jesus told him: what if he sold his possessions and gave all that money to the poor, and later, returned to follow Jesus faithfully? The text doesn’t say he did, but the possibility is too intriguing to ignore.

I’m going to read the story again, and this time, I want to hold that scenario in your mind…(click here to read the lesson)

This interpretation also has strengths. In this scenario, the Rich Man’s sadness is based on his realization that – wow! – he has to give up an awful lot in order to follow Jesus. His wealth, his power, his unfettered access, his control, and – maybe most importantly - his independence. In this second scenario, though, he gets over himself, is obedient to the demands that Jesus places before him, and then, freed of all that excess, he returns to Jesus, ready to grow as a disciple.

To let go of independence and claim dependence upon Jesus – that is the tough thing to do. In this second scenario, it is hard for the wealthy to enter the Kingdom of God because there is so much more to let go of, so much more to get over. But, in this second scenario, the Rich Man chooses the difficult thing.

It’s a powerful image, and in my mind, is even more powerful than the first scenario. The first scenario is obvious – it’s easy. In that ending, the Rich Man does the expected. It’s in this second scenario where the Rich Man surprises us by taking the obstacle between him and Jesus, and turning into an opportunity to help others.

The Apostle Paul had many obstacles to following Jesus. He was a Jew, but not only that, he was a Jew that persecuted Christians horribly, even to the point of death. During his dramatic conversion, God opened his heart, so that he could let go of all that kept him from following Jesus fully. He became one of the strongest leaders in the early Church, one of the loudest voices in proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ.

Paul wrote this to the Philippians: “…whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ. More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith.”

It is God who creates faith in us, but we are the ones who live out the faith. We are the ones who – led by the Spirit – see what obstacles lie between us and Jesus, and then – with God’s help – we take steps to move those obstacles or use them in a different way.

What is the obstacle between you and Jesus today? Is it something tangible, like  possessions, or money, or some other thing? Or is the obstacle something intangible, like fear, or anger, or disappointment? What is the obstacle between you and Jesus today?

How is God leading you to choose a different ending that what is easy or expected? How is God leading you to experience the struggle of letting go, in order that you might grow as a disciple of Jesus? How is God leading you?

Amen.

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We Are Baptized for the Sake of the Whole World

Lectionary 13, Year B – 28 June 2015

Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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Last Thursday evening, Steve and I traveled to downtown Ft. Worth with Pr. Vicki Taylor (from Lord of Life Lutheran Church) to join a march to support our brothers and sisters in the African Methodist Episcopal Church – both those who live here in North Texas, and those who live in Charleston, South Carolina, and elsewhere. We arrived just in time to join the group as they began the march. We were greeted by those at the head of the group, and then we joined our ELCA colleagues who were further back. And we walked.

As we walked, someone began to sing: “We are one in the Spirit, We are one in the Lord…And we pray that all unity may one day be restored. And they'll know we are Christians by our love, by our love. Yes, they'll know we are Christians by our love.” And then different verses of, “We are marching in the light of God, we are marching in the light of God…”

And then, “We shall not be, we shall not be moved.
We shall not be, we shall not be moved.
 Just like a tree that's planted by the water.
 We shall not be moved.” Someone at the head of the group began to sing the verses, call-and-response style. And so we sang, and we walked.

We reached the Historic Allen Chapel A.M.E. Church and we were greeted at the door. It was a muggy evening, and I was overjoyed to find a pew right underneath a ceiling fan that was spinning on high. One of the pastors made an announcement for us to greet one another, and so we all got up and introduced ourselves. The members of the A.M.E. church moved through the crowds of visitors, greeting us with smiles and welcome. An elder member made her way to me and, seeing my collar, she invited me down front to the clergy section.

The service began, and the pastor asked us to shout out the names of our churches on the count of three – and the cacophony of names rang out all around us. Then he asked us –on the count of three - to shout out the name of our Lord and Savior: “JESUS!” was the loud reply, from Lutherans, and Episcopalians, and Methodists, and Baptists, and from the African Methodist Episcopal Church members, and any other ilk of Christian who was in that room.

We spent two hours in prayer and praise together – united under the cross of Christ. At several points in the service, the choir sang. Their songs of praise were so rich and full and powerful that we joined in. Our songs of praise together were so rich and full and powerful that I was overwhelmed. I was overwhelmed by God’s power and love, and with the love in that room.

We so easily could’ve chosen to hate one another instead. We so easily could’ve found angry words to cast at each other, and I’ll just say that if the tables were turned – if an A.M.E. church member went into an ELCA church and killed nine people, I’m not sure I’d be able to resist the temptation toward anger and hatred and retaliation – because those are so very easy. To choose welcome, to choose love, instead – those are the harder things.

Maybe that’s part of why I find Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 13 so particularly appropriate for followers of Christ right now. “Love is patient,” he says. “Love is kind. Love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth.” Love endures because it’s “like a tree, planted by the water.” Love that is planted and rooted in the love of God – that kind of love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

The woman healed by Jesus in today’s Gospel lesson knows this kind of love. She has suffered and endured pain and all she wants is to be healed, and so she reaches out to Jesus for that healing – and she receives healing. When she is caught in the act, she responds with “fear and trembling,” the text says, except what the text means is not fear and trembling, like if we encountered a grizzly bear on a hike, or a tornado coming at our house. The fear and trembling she shows is what one author calls the “holy state of being overwhelmed by God’s power”[1].

This is the same power that overwhelms us when we are baptized, as Avery will be today. Now, we keep things calm and quiet here – I will pour water over her head and she won’t be literally overwhelmed by the water that washes over her. But even in that little bit of water that will fall over her, there will be found the overwhelming power of God’s love. And she will be sealed with the cross of Christ, and marked as Christ’s own forever.

Martin Luther said that baptism should be like a “daily garment” that we wear all the time,[2] and so the living out of her baptism is still to come. You as parents and grandparents, and we as representatives of Christ’s whole Church, will make promises to help her get out this garment every day – to help her wear her baptism each and every day of her life.

For when we are baptized, we are not only baptized for our own sake. We are baptized for the sake of the whole world. We are made new creations in Christ, and we are sent to love others.

For whatever else this world needs – and this world needs a lot – this world needs love. This world needs healing of the racism that creeps into every avenue it can – even into our churches. This world needs more peace, and more understanding. This world needs “justice to roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream,” as the prophet Amos said.[3] This world needs God’s love, which, in Scripture, is love extended to those who are downtrodden, those who are hurting, and those who are unloved by everyone else. This world needs enduring love – “just like a tree that’s planted by the water…”

“See what love the Father has given to us, that we should be called the children of God; and that is what we are!”[4] This world needs enduring love, and that is lived out in us. So, live out this love as God’s beloved children. Be the love of God that we are called to be in the world. In Jesus’ name.

Amen.

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[1] New Collegeville  Bible Commentary: The Gospel According to Mark by Marie Noonan Sabin, p. 52

[2] Martin Luther’s Large Catechism (Section on Baptism, paragraph 84).

[3] Amos 5:24

[4] 1 John 3:1

What if Faith is Just the Size of a Mustard Seed?

The Rev. Kathi Johnson

Lectionary 11, Year B – June 14, 2015

Marks of Discipleship: Bible Study

Texts: 1 Corinthians 13; Mark 4:30-34

Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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Here we are in our second week of looking at 1 Corinthians 13. As I said last week, though this chapter has been co-opted to refer to romantic love and is used at many weddings, Paul wrote this chapter as part of a larger letter to the church in Corinth, addressing the division that had crept into that church’s life together.

Corinth was a crossroads in the First Century largely because it was on a major trade route between Italy and Asia Minor (what we now call Turkey). Lots of different cultures mixed there – lots of different types of people – lots of different religions, too. In Corinth, they didn’t just worship one god, they worshipped many gods, and into this hodge-podge of religious life arrived the Gospel of Jesus Christ, thanks to Paul and others missionarie, such as Peter and another man named Apollos.

As a missionary to Corinth, Paul was most successful in reaching the Gentiles with the good news of Jesus Christ. Over time, house churches formed, largely centered around whichever missionary had shared the gospel with any particular household. So, one house church would follow Paul’s teachings – another would follow the teachings of Apollos – another the teachings of Peter, etc. And while the basic message of the love of Christ was there, there was disagreement in how that love was lived out.

These disparate groups would meet all together periodically to celebrate the Lord’s Supper together, and in these larger meetings is when the division was really apparent. The more “moral” believers would shame the “immoral” believers. Gossip prevailed. Some members wanted to disallow others from being a part of the Lord’s Supper.

And so, Paul writes this epistle, lambasting them at the beginning for their divisiveness, asking them to remember who it is that their faith is based upon - not Paul, not Apollos, not Peter – but their faith is based upon Jesus Christ.

Knowing this background makes 1 Corinthians 13 all the more meaningful. When Paul says that love is patient and kind, he is calling them out for bad behavior – for their lack of patience and kindness with one another. When Paul says that love rejoices with the truth, he is encouraging them to speak words of truth (as opposed to gossip) about one another. When Paul says that faith, hope, and love abide, he is reminding them that faith, hope, and love - these three - are the lasting parts that really matter.

Moving forward from here, we will look at these three lasting parts of the Christian life: faith, hope, and love, focusing today upon faith. And if we want to talk about faith, there are plenty of examples in the Bible, and today we have a great example in Jesus’ Parable of the Mustard Seed.

Here, I read an excerpt from a sermon of my mother's (The Rev. Diane W. Bragg), preached in 1996 in Houston:

Faith is like a mustard seed. It begins as something very tiny, and takes time to grow, and eventually leaf out, blossom, and produce fruit; as well as spreading its branches and providing a place for others to come and build their nests, within those branches of faith.

As we live out our daily lives, we may see our faith as being minuscule, like a mustard seed. When we go through touch times, through challenges, through pain and loneliness, these can be times of growth for our seed of faith.

Faith is more than something which 'gets us through a moment or a couple of days, or even a few months,' though. It is a trust that says, I believe God will bring about good, and I wasn't to be a part of that.

Story: The gorge was one thousand feet deep with jagged protruding rocks anchored in its walls. A thin strong wire was tightly stretched across the three hundred-foot span which separated the two banks. A tense crowd watched an cheered as an acrobat walked the slightly swaying wire. Then, putting on a blindfold, he walked back along the wire and the crowd cheered even louder. They gasped in astonishment as they saw him cross the gorge again, pushing a wheelbarrow full of sand, with the wire sagging almost to the point of breaking. The moment his feet touched solid ground, the terrified people went wild with excitement.

One young mans threw his arms around him. "You are the greatest!" he shouted. "I've never seen anyone like you."

"So, you have faith in me?" said the acrobat, emptying the wheelbarrow with a shovel.

"Faith in you?" exclaimed the young man. "I'd depend my life on you!"

"Well then," replied the acrobat, "Why don't you sit in the wheelbarrow and we'll cross the gorge together?"

The young man's faith immediately evaporated.

Mature faith does not evaporate, rather, it holds firm. However, the Parable of the Mustard Seed reminds us that mature faith is not something we are born with and it does not happen quickly. It wakes time to nurture our faith, which is a gift from God, and like all gifts from God we can choose to refuse it or we can choose to accept it, and if we choose to accept it, then, in order to facilitate its growth, we must nurture it through prayer and Christian worship, such as we are doing here this morning. We can nurture our faith through using opportunities for Bible Study and fellowship with other Christians -- that is, providing an environment which fosters growth and fruitfulness.

So, the Parable of the Mustard Seed teaches us that we born with a "seed of faith" which must be nurtured in order to sprout and grow, and eventually to bloom and be fruitful. And, that, somewhere after that, when our faith has grown mature like a tree with branches, others may even find solace and strengthening in the midst of our faith. Such is the ultimate goal of our growth in faith -- sharing it with others.

As I said last week, the main goal of Bible Study is for us to learn how we can better love God and love our neighbor. When Paul writes about faith, hope, and love, he’s not simply talking about abstract concepts that mean nothing for our day-to-day lives. Paul is encouraging us to bring faith, hope, and love into every relationship, every decision, every action, and even – here’s the tough one – every thought we have.

May God take that which begins so small in us – the size of a mustard seed – and make that grow. May God grow our faith. And may we be open to this growth, trusting the Spirit’s work within us.

Amen.

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