Mark Johnston

Scared to Life

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge
But fools despise wisdom and instruction (Proverbs 1:7 - NKJV).

Ancient Wisdom II closed out earlier today with “General Tsao’s Chicken.” We talked about the fear of God – how it is the jumping off place, the starting point, of understanding who God is, who we are, and what it all means.

Last night, Susan got sick and went to bed early. I was up late. I’d just spent four or five hours wrapping up my message for this morning, the house was eerily still, and I found myself looking over my shoulder.

Scared.

I thought I saw something move out of the corner of my eye in the kitchen. I left the light on over the stove. I hurried up the stairs, squinting to make out their parameters so I didn’t twist an ankle in my haste. I was moving quickly just in case someone suddenly appeared behind me. I didn’t want to get caught in the night; defenseless and alone.

When I finally called it a night, I pulled the blankets close to my chin. Everyone knows you’re safer if your entire body is covered with blankets, no part of you exposed to the darkness.

I wondered why I was so skittish until it hit me (Mr. Slow-on-the-Uptake): I’m preaching in less than a dozen hours about the fear of the Lord.

It probably makes sense that I was a little spooked.

This is a great and awesome big “G” God we serve. He reserves the right to bare His teeth – to roar and lunge and make it suddenly and perfectly clear just how powerful He is.

According to Solomon, the starting point of knowledge – of all the information, intuition, and truth that really matters – lies in an intimate awe of God. It’s tough to fully know and serve God unless something about His authority and presence makes our hearts thump noisily in our chests.

You wouldn’t know it from a quick look around.

We’ve pulled off the ultimate reduction of glory in our culture; shaping dozens of golden calves, small “g” gods, and bowing low before them. The gods we worship befriend, amuse, serve, placate, and patronize us – but never terrify us. They’re undemanding, unassuming, there when we need them but not when we don’t, kinds of gods.

The fear of the Lord is the beginning. This big “G” God looms large over all of life. He’s the Creator, the King other kings jostle to gain an audience with, Jesus the Christ, the only Savior. He is the LORD. And that ought to scare us to life.

Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed-not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence-continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose (Philippians 2:12,13 - NIV).

Oh Praise the One

During the gathering yesterday morning, the band led us in worship through the song, “Jesus Paid it All.” When they sang out the words, “Oh praise the One who paid my debt, and raised this life up from the dead,” my soul was filled with gratitude; and I worshiped.

I praised the One who paid my debt. I was a sinner far from God – living life my own way, holding Christ in contempt, making good time on the broad path that leads to destruction. I owed God an ever-growing fortune, an inconceivable price. I broke His laws over and over, without pause. I was spiritually shallow and calloused. I did what I wanted when I wanted how I wanted.

I was lost.

Then God reached for me, shining the bright, piercing light of His glory into my life, awakening me to the darkness of my sin and the power of His mercy – to my need for forgiveness and His desire to provide it.

I knelt and wept and prayed and confessed: not in an auditorium, not at an altar, not with a crowd of others, but with my mother at midnight in a two bedroom apartment.

She prayed, I prayed, heaven opened. Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owed. Sin had left a crimson stain; He washed it white as snow.

I was forgiven! I was free! I had been mine, Satan’s, this world’s; an orphan, really – fatherless, forsaken, floundering to keep my head above water. Now I swam in His grace and knew that I was His. I believed in his name, and He gave me the right to become a child of God – a child born not of natural descent, nor of human decision… but born of God (John 1:12,13 – NIV).

Oh praise the One who paid my debt.

Yesterday morning, I praised the One who raised this life up from the dead as well. I worshiped Jesus the Christ, the only wise and living God and Savior. I worshiped Him because He is the only One to be worshiped! I worshiped because the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in me, and he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to my mortal body through His Spirit, who lives in me (Romans 8:11 – NIV).

I wanted God to fill me with the Holy Spirit and He did. Demonstratively, leaving no room for doubt, He endued me with His power and presence. I received Him and His quickening influence, speaking His language, rejoicing in His greatness.

He raised this life up from the dead.

If you’re overjoyed that your debts are paid and what was long dead made alive by the power of the risen Christ, stop whatever you’re doing right now and praise Him. Thank Him. Whisper, shout, cry, laugh, write it, pray it… praise Him.

And if you haven’t received His gift of life, stop whatever you’re doing right now and ask Him for it. Confess your sins, trade a life without God for a life with Him, turn to Jesus and follow Him alone.

And join us Wednesday evening as we worship Him with unadulterated praise and experience communion together. He paid our debts. He raised us up. He’s Jesus.

Vive la France... Deux

Our A330 is hurtling toward Philadelphia on this sunny afternoon (it’s sunny up here at least); Susan and I are on our way home from France.

We spent the weekend in Melun, preaching at a European Youth Convention. Close to 1000 people from France, England, Belgium, Sweden, Austria, Italy and other nations gathered for three days of music and ministry. God met with us.

The worship was contagious. We celebrated the power and glory of our Christ together, nationalities and languages laid at Jesus’ feet in united awareness of our common citizenship in His Kingdom. As I preached, people responded with openness toward God and sincere prayer. Several people received the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Monday, we headed back to Paris with our friends the Nowacki’s for a day of sightseeing and relaxation. We started off by touring Le Louvre, the largest museum in France and home to the famous Mona Lisa. I took her picture, and I think she may have smiled at me.

Then we strolled along the streets downtown, shopping for souvenirs for our kids before stopping for a Madame de Croque at a quaint little restaurant. (A Madame de Croque is a French sandwich – grilled bread, ham, cheese, and an incredible white sauce, all topped off with a fried egg). Of course, no French lunch would be complete without l’espresso or a café creme.

Next, we drove to the biggest department store I’ve ever been to in my life. Six floors, all of women’s clothing (we never made it to the men’s side). On the sixth floor, there was a sprawling cafe with a stained glass dome ceiling – and we couldn’t leave without another coffee.

We parked near the Eiffel Tower and purchased tickets for an evening cruise on La River Seine. While we waited for our boat to depart, we walked to yet another restaurant and had dinner. Spaghetti and meatballs for me – crepes with mushrooms for Susan.

The cruise was spectacular. We drifted by the beauty of the city of lights – Le Louvre, Notre Dame, monuments, apartments, and centuries old bridges – as we held each other close in the crisp, cool air of a Paris fall.

Paris is for lovers, you know.

Tuesday, we journeyed to a medieval castle and then on to walled city that is nearly a millennium old. It was fascinating… and I got yelled at by a French man. Susan will be more than happy to tell you the story.

This morning, we traveled to the Charles du Gaulle airport – a little sad at the thought of leaving France but filled with the anticipation of seeing Madeline and Conner again. It was a fabulous week.

Vive la France!

A Life Investments Miracle

Visions are like lenses. They focus un-refracted rays of light. They enable everyone concerned with an enterprise to see more clearly what is ahead of them (author unknown).

A miracle happened yesterday at The Journey.

It’d be wrong to call it anything else. It was a work of God through the lives of believing people.

For the past six weeks, we’ve wrapped our hearts and minds around the vision of Life Investments – ramping up to giving half a million dollars over the next three years to maximize our current campus to reach and connect people; hire staff to empower members for ministry; and prepare to move to a new and better place.

Yesterday was the climactic moment when the rubber met the proverbial road and people who call The Journey their church had a chance to step up to the plate.

We stepped up in style.

We worshiped. God met with us. Then we reiterated the vision, challenged ourselves to live and give big, prayed, and pledged.

We brought our Life Investments card to the front of the auditorium and exchanged it for a block. Families came together. Single adults came. Teens came. We wrote our last name and a note describing the motivation behind our step of faith on our block. Then we worked together to rebuild a wall.

Over 50 bricks. Over 50 households making the next move toward a better future - together.

$531,423 was pledged.

Thank you for coming along. It’s been an amazing past few weeks. The best is yet to come.