Tuesday, July 12, 2016
God of Wonders
Every Sunday we gather to rehearse the great stories of our faith. The stories of Abraham, Joseph, Daniel, Jesus, and Paul are stories that inspire our faith. We rehearse these stories to strengthen and encourage our faith. We do it to build up our own faith, and to encourage each other to continue to hold firmly to the faith. We also rehearse them because we hope and trust that the story of faith is one that is still being written as God continues to work in our lives. But there are times when life just flatly contradicts all that we believe and hope for. We go through experiences so difficult, so painful, that we find it a challenge to even recall those stories, let alone believe them. These are the times in our lives when we go through what can be a make-or-break crisis of faith.
In our Psalm for today, it would seem that the psalmist was living through an experience like that. The opening verses are haunting in the depth of anguish they reflect. The psalmist “cries aloud” to God,” seeking God by “stretching out his hand” to God during the night. And yet, the end result is that “my soul refuses to be comforted. I think of God, and I moan; I meditate, and my spirit faints.” (Ps. 77:2-3). The psalmist has poured out his heart to God in prayer and instead of finding comfort, he says “I am so troubled that I cannot speak” (Ps. 77:4). I don’t know about you, but that’s not the outcome I envision when I pour out my heart in prayer to God!
It would seem that the problem that occupies the psalmist is that God’s people have been sent into exile. They were living under the control of the Babylonians, and their hope for restoration was fading. It would seem that the problem was they had held out their hands to God in prayer day after day and night after night, and the response had been silence. It was a silence so deep and so troubling that it left them without words to pray. All they could do was wonder what had happened.
The words that give voice to their questions are troubling, if you pay attention and take them seriously. The Psalmist asks, “Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable? Has his steadfast love ceased forever? Are his promises at an end for all time? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he in anger shut up his compassion?” (Ps. 77:7-9). These questions are not posed lightly; the terms represent the essential character of God as revealed in the Bible: favor, steadfast love, promise, grace, and compassion. The psalmist summarizes his dilemma when he says “What hurts me most is this - that God is no longer powerful” (Ps. 77:10, TEV). I like the way The Message puts it: “Just my luck, … The High God goes out of business just the moment I need him.”
If you run the race of faith long enough, you are likely to have an experience like this. The truth is that life is hard and can in fact be tragic. And when we have experiences that are so painful they call into question the very character of God, it can feel like we’ve “hit the wall.” Unfortunately, many who “hit the wall” in the race of faith simply give up. I don’t mean that as a put-down, because this kind of experience can crush the best of us. But faith that runs deep enough simply will not let go. And so the psalmist turns from his own attempts to understand why God has apparently turned his back. Instead, he rehearses the great stories of faith again.
The story that he uses is one of the fundamental stories of our faith: the Exodus. It is the original story of God’s saving love. This story inspires the Psalmist to declare: “Your way, O God, is holy. What god is so great as our God? You are the God who works wonders” (Ps. 77:13-14). And yet, what the psalmist realizes is that there is a mystery to God’s way with us. While he reminds himself that God is the God who works wonders, he also recognizes that God is essentially “holy.” That word is loaded with an incredible amount of meaning. But in this context, the psalmist seems to refer to the fact that God’s ways are beyond our ways. He makes a unique observation about the Exodus that applies to the way God works “wonders.” He says, “Your way was through the sea, …; yet your footprints were unseen” (Ps. 77:19). I think that it dawned on him that even when God is working wonders in our lives, we very likely will not even be aware of it.
We all have stories of our own faith pilgrimage that we can rehearse, and that’s one of the reasons why we gather together. We not only rehearse the great stories of our faith, we also share our own stories. Nevertheless, for many if not all of us, there may come a time when the stories all seem to lose their meaning. We may run into hardships that make it seem that God has changed and “gone out of business.” No simplistic clichés will comfort us in those times. When that happens, we are faced with a decision: do we give up on faith, or to we keep running the race? We may have to run in silence; we may have to run alone; we may have to run without any support. At least as far as we can tell.
But as we do, we can remember that those who experienced the original stories of our faith very likely went through the same challenges. In fact, I would say that in the midst of those stories, the main characters went through their own crisis of faith very much like ours. What they discovered, and what kept them going, was the confidence that God does not change, God does not abandon us. They discovered that while God may not leave any footprints, God is still the one who works wonders in our lives. The story of our faith is still being written, and through it all, God remains the God of wonders.
 ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 7/3/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church in Hickman, NE.
 Cf. J. Clinton McCann, Jr., “The Book of Psalms,” New Interpreters Bible IV: 983: “It is as if the psalmist has become so discouraged that prayer has become impossible.” He also says (ibid.), “The psalmists elsewhere affirm that those who seek God will be answered and satisfied (see Pss 9:10; 22:26; 34:4, 10), but the constant seeking in Psalm 77 (see ‘day’ and ‘night’), including unceasing prayer, has led only to the conclusion that no comfort is possible.”
 Scholars cannot be certain that this Psalm comes from the time of the exile, but it very likely comes from that time, or the time after the exile, when those who had returned to their home found it in ruins and found that the “restoration” they had hoped for fell far short of their expectations.
 Cf. McCann, “Psalms,” NIB IV:983-84, where he says that the psalmist voices “agonizing questions that strike at the very heart of the biblical faith” because the very wording “questions God’s fundamental character.” Cf. also James L. Mays, Psalms, 251: “The psalmist puts in words the awful reality that God’s way with his people has changed and raises the awful question whether that means God has changed.”
 Cf. John Caputo, On Religion, 124-25, where he insists that faith always takes place against the backdrop of the evil and suffering and tragedy in life. He says (p. 125), “Faith is faith that there is something that lifts us above the blind force of things, a mind in all this mindlessness. That there is … someone, …, who stands by us when we are up against the worst, who stands by others, by the least among us.”
 Cf. Mays, Psalms, 252: “The LORD’s way is ‘in holiness.’ Holiness is the basic attribute of deity; it is all that contrasts with and transcends the human, the marvelous, the mysterious, the incomprehensible.” Cf. H.-J. Kraus, Psalms 60-150, 116: “He himself, Yahweh, is the Holy One …, the ‘wholly Other.’ His salvific deeds prove his incomparability….”
 Cf. McCann, “Psalms,” NIB IV:984: “What the psalmist apparently realizes in the process of recalling the exodus in the light of the experience recounted in vv. 1-10 is that God’s way is not always clearly visible or comprehensible in terms of human ways (see Isa 55:8-9).” Cf. Kraus, Psalms 60-150, 117: “Being near ‘without footprints’ (v. 19b)—without visible proofs of his coming—that is God’s way of dealing with his people.”
 Cf. McCann, “Psalms,” NIB IV:985: “In every age, the people of God are called to proclaim and to embody the reign of God in the midst of circumstances that make it appear that God does not reign.”
 Cf. Mays, Psalms, 254: “The recital of salvation history is always relevant because salvation history is not yet over.”
Monday, June 27, 2016
One of the great pitfalls in any spiritual practice is that it can narrow our focus. If we’re not aware of this potential problem, it’s easy to fall into a pattern of thinking and praying primarily about our own concerns. When we do not find a way to check this tendency, our “spirituality” can actually become an extension of our self-interest, if not a kind of self-absorption. I think one test we can apply is to pay attention how often we find ourselves praying with words like I, me, my, and mine. I would imagine most of us probably use those words in our prayers more that we realize, or would be comfortable admitting.
To some extent, I would have to say that when we use the Psalms as a source for our spiritual practice, they can actually contribute to this problem. So often the Psalms express the prayers of individuals, many times pouring out their hearts in fear or anguish or grief or even anger to God. We can learn a great deal from the way the psalmists pray—namely that we can bring all of our concerns and thoughts and feelings to God, and God is not offended by them. But if we’re not careful, we can also fall into a pattern of praying mainly for ourselves. We can develop a kind of spiritual tunnel vision.
Our Psalm for today is a beautiful prayer. It is actually one of my favorites. The psalmist pours out his heart to God in prayer, expressing a deep longing for God’s presence. The words are beautiful: “As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God?” (Psalm 42:1-2). This prayer conveys the psalmists longing for God’s presence in his life. In fact, the psalmist is asking for God to restore him. We don’t know what has happened, but apparently he is no longer able to take part in the procession to worship God. He has encountered some kind of significant loss. And for that reason, he says “my soul is cast down within me” (Ps. 42:6).
It is a natural and healthy thing to turn to God in that kind of situation. Many of us have found ourselves in precisely that position, and may have voiced our prayer to God using the words of this very Psalm. And the hope in this Psalm is expressed in the refrain, “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God” (Ps. 42:5-6). It offers a reassurance we all find ourselves in need of from time to time—the promise that God has not abandoned us, and that at some point in the future we will indeed find our lives healed, restored, and renewed.
It is precisely because the Psalms express these sentiments in such beautiful ways that many throughout the ages have used them as a basis for pouring out their own prayers to God. And that is a good thing as well. But I’m afraid the fact that the language of the Psalms can at times take on an individual perspective—using words like I, me, my, and mine—is a factor that we have to be aware of if we’re going to use the Psalms in our prayers. If do not use them thoughtfully, we can find ourselves falling into a kind of self-absorption that is indeed one of the pitfalls of any faith.
In our lesson from the Hebrew Bible for today, we see precisely that kind of self-interest reflected in no less than the prophet Elijah! The ministry of Elijah marked one of the times in which the word of the LORD was most effective in the life of Israel. Among the prophets, he stands with Moses, Isaiah, and Jeremiah. And yet, after his dramatic stand-off with the prophets of Baal, he finds himself running for his life from Queen Jezebel. He flees into the wilderness, where he collapses from exhaustion. After being fed by an angel, he goes on to the mountain of God, and when God appears he asks Elijah, “What are you doing here?”
Elijah’s answer reflects the kind of tunnel vision we’re talking about today: “I have been very zealous for the LORD, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away” (1 Kings 19:10). This is one of the most common tendencies with spiritual tunnel vision: thinking that “I alone am left”! The LORD God reminds Elijah dramatically that in fact he had seven thousand faithful followers in Israel—Elijah was far from the only one! But after all the conflict and struggle he had been through, it was easy for him to think that he was alone.
When we go through hard times, we can feel like the Psalmist—we’re thirsty for God’s presence like one who is wandering in the desert. And in those times, it’s a good thing to turn to the words of the Psalms to give voice to our prayers. In fact, they have been a “school of prayer” for countless faithful believers throughout the ages. But as we use the words of the Psalms to voice our prayers, we have to be aware that while they are the words of Scripture, they are also very human prayers. The benefit in the humanity of the Psalms is that we learn we can pour out our hearts to God, no matter what we’re feeling or thinking. The problem is that we can develop the kind of spiritual tunnel vision that Elijah displayed in his complaint to God. I think part of the answer to this problem is that we keep our focus on the God who is our hope and our help. God’s purposes in this world are much larger than our personal lives, and keeping our focus on that larger purpose can help us avoid the tendency we can all have to fall into tunnel vision.
 ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 6/19/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
 Cf. Frederick W. Schmidt, What God Wants for Your Life, 3, where he laments that we live in “an increasingly first-person-singular world” and says (ibid., 4-5), “That is why the lives of some otherwise very sincere people often appear self-serving or self-absorbed—in spite of their interest in the will of God. They may focus energy on spiritual concerns in a way that they never have in the past, but the first-person-singular is still there, deeply at work in their spiritual DNA. The result is dissonance: spiritualized conversation about self-seeking goals, self-actualization disguised as service, lives that lack everything except the appearance of piety.” Cf. similarly, John D. Caputo, On Religion, 2-3, “a lot of supposedly religious people love nothing more than getting their own way and bending others to their own will (‘in the name of God’).”
 Cf. H.-J. Kraus, A Continental Commentary: Psalms 1–59, 439, where he says the image of an animal yearning for water is “an effective picture of the torment and the consuming desire with which the petitioner stretches out toward Yahweh.”
 Cf. James L. Mays, Psalms, 173: “The prayer is about the need of human life for the life that the living God bestows, revives, and preserves. Here it is understood and said very clearly that life depends on God.”
 Cf. Mays, Psalms, 174, where he points out that the question “Where is your God?” indicates “a situation in which those who trust in the LORD are put to shame in the presence of others because of some trouble that calls their faith into question. … The social, personal, and theological experience of the absence of God is the soul’s thirst.” Cf. also Peter S. Hawkins, “A Howl of Despair,” The Christian Century (June 6, 2001): 12, where he says, “The psalmist recalls times when his sense of the divine presence was so immediate and full that he felt as if he were beholding nothing less than the face of God. But that was then. Now all that he hears is the sound of his own dereliction—‘Why have you forgotten me?’— coming back to him in the relentless taunts of others: ‘Where is your God?’” Cf. further Kraus, Psalms 1-59, 439, where he mentions the common suggestion that the affliction involves some kind of physical illness.
 In the text of 1 Kings 19, Elijah experiences a great wind, an earthquake, and a fire, but “God was not in” any of them. Finally, he experiences a “gentle whisper” (1 Kg. 19:13, NIV) or “a hushed sound” (cf. Choon-Leong Seow, “The First and Second Books of Kings,” New Interpreters Bible III:142). Cf. Volkmar Fritz, A Continental Commentary: 1 & 2 Kings, 198: “Elijah recognizes the presence of Yahweh only in the hardly audible murmur. This statement is influenced by a reflection on the event of the presence of Yahweh and thus mediates a new image of God that moves beyond traditional views. One can experience God only in the silence that focuses the individual on himself or herself and on the act of listening; this silence is appropriate to the nature of God and to the experience of God through his word. God reveals himself mysteriously.”
 Cf. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together, 47: “The Psalter is the great school of prayer.” Cf. Mays, Psalms, 126: “The life of prayer is incomplete unless there are supplications that say, ‘Teach me, instruct me, guide me, let me know.’” Cf. further Lawrence S. Cunningham, “Praying the Psalms,” Theology Today 46 (April 1989): 42, where he says that we are “members of a believing community who have inherited [the Psalms] as the prayerbook of the church. They are part of our lives because they were the prayers with which Jesus was familiar. They are part of our worship because they form an essential part of the church's fabric of prayer.
 Cf. J. Clinton McCann, Jr., “The Book of Psalms,” New Interpreters Bible IV: 641, where he recounts the story of how after Secretary-General of the United Nations Dag Hammarskjöld’s tragic death in a plane crash in 1961, they recovered among his personal effects a copy of the New Testament, a copy of the Psalms, and a copy of the United Nations Charter. He says, “Hammarskjöld apparently understood—quite correctly—that the book of Psalms presents nothing short of God’s claim upon the whole world and that it articulates God’s will for justice, righteousness, and peace among all peoples and all nations.” Cf. also Schmidt, What God Wants, 10-11: “Both the best and the worst of every culture and religious tradition either enlarge or constrict our ability to discern the presence of God in the world.” Cf. also ibid, 27, where he says that when we don’t focus on God’s larger purpose in this world by seeking to give the kind of love that meets others needs, “Our prayer life and our spiritual life becomes little more than the quest to find a life that we can find gratifying.”
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Our Hope and our Help
Last week we discussed the fact that the Psalmist calls us all to find joy in the promise that the God who reigns over all things will one day right every wrong, heal all that is broken, and wipe away every tear. It is the very foundation of the hope that we cherish: the promise that God will be faithful to us no matter what. But, unfortunately, when you look at the way life actually works, it can sometimes be hard to believe that our hope does us any good. Those who have no lack of faith in God often suffer in ways that seem incredibly unfair. If we’re honest with ourselves, we have to wonder about the promise that God will set things right.
I think that may be one of the great challenges to our faith. When the suffering of this world seems so unjust, the question whether our hope in God does us any good has to come up, whether we want to acknowledge it or not. For many of us, “natural” tragedies like tornadoes, hurricanes, and floods provoke us to ask this question. There’s a separate subject in the study of religion for it: it’s called “Theodicy,” which means “justifying God.” The basic problem it tries to explain is this: if God is both loving and all-powerful, then the massive suffering we see in our world should never happen. So some conclude that God must be all-powerful but not loving. Others conclude that God must be loving but not all-powerful. Either way, God may be our hope, but he’s not much help.
Our lesson from the Psalms for today addresses this question by insisting that God is indeed both all-powerful and loving. The psalmist begins by affirming that God is all-powerful. And his evidence for this is the world around us. God is the one who “made heaven and earth, the sea and all that is in them” (Ps. 146:6). Already in that day, there was a sense that the created order is amazingly vast. And yet in our day we know so much more about how vast creation is. A cubic foot of soil can be a vast microcosm of life, from microscopic organisms to insects to plants. The ecosystem that supports our world is incredible complex. And beyond that, there are countless galaxies of stars that are only visible to extended exposure photography from the Hubble telescope. The Psalmist insists with the rest of Scripture that the one who created all of this is indeed all-powerful.
But at the same time the Psalmist insists that this all-powerful God is not just “a God who doesn’t care, who lives away out there.” Rather, this all-powerful God is also the God whose very character is defined by love. God is not only the one who created all things, he is also the one who “keeps faith forever” (Ps. 146:6). God is the one who remains faithful, and this means that he is actively involved in relationship with us all. If you want to know what that looks like in specific terms, the Psalmist spells it out. It means that God feeds the hungry, he sets the prisoners free, he restores sight to the blind, he lifts up those who are bowed down, he watches over the “strangers” or resident immigrants, and he upholds the widows and orphans (Ps. 146:7-9). God is both all-powerful and completely loving, and he demonstrates his love in the very real circumstances of our lives.
This affirmation is the foundation of our faith: that God is not only our hope but also God acts in specific ways to help us with the burdens of life. And yet, I would think we can all call to mind instances where the hungry didn’t get fed, those who were bowed down were crushed by their hardships, and those who were suffering found no relief, no matter how hard they prayed or how fervently they believed. It is a fact of life that calls into question the faith that our Scripture lesson affirms. And the question we face in those situations is whether we can continue to believe in a God who is not only our hope but also our help.
It may come as a surprise to you, but this question is one that the Scriptures ask repeatedly. The Psalmists ask God if he has forgotten to be loving (Ps. 77:8-9) and if he has fallen asleep instead of coming to help his people in their time of need (Ps. 44:23). When we do all that we can to stay on the right path, and we muster all the faith we can manage, and still our lives fall apart, it can seem like God has abandoned us. That’s when the burden of suffering can make it seem impossible to trust the promise that God loves us enough to actually do something about what we’re going through. It can be enough to shake our faith so intensely that we may feel like the ground has given way beneath us. It would seem that the facts of our lives simply cannot be reconciled with the assurances of Scripture.
Our confession of faith today affirms that there is nothing that can happen to us that “God does not bend finally to the good.” I would imagine that plenty of us have been through experiences that make that hard to swallow, let alone believe. When that happens, I think we need more than just “God knows what’s best for us.” If God truly is the one who “keeps faith forever,” then we need something to reassure us those words mean something real when it feels like he’s broken his promise. In my mind, that’s where the cross comes in. I believe that one of the most important reasons for the cross was to demonstrate once and for all that God doesn’t abandon us. God didn’t abandon Jesus on the cross, and God will never abandon you or me or anyone in this world, especially in the midst of suffering. I believe that the cross stands as a reminder that God is not only our hope, but also, even when it seems all but impossible to believe, he is our help.
 ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 6/5/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
 The seriousness of this question is pointedly expressed in connection with the Holocaust by Frederick Buechner, Whistling in the Dark, 61-62: “Anyone who claims to believe in an all-powerful, all-loving God without taking into account this devastating evidence [i.e. the Holocaust] either that God is indifferent or powerless, or that there is no God at all, is playing games. … If Love itself is really at the heart of it all, how can such things happen? What do such things mean?” Cf. similarly, Shirley C. Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 182, where he says that the level of suffering in our world can make us wonder whether “all talk about a loving and just God” is just empty talk “by people who are not courageous enough to face up to the fact that we live in a godless and godforsaken world.”
 One contemporary example of this point of view is Sam Harris. In a post on Twitter dated Aug. 5, 2015, he said, “God visits suffering on innocent people on a scope and scale that would embarrass the most ambitious psychopath.”
 A contemporary example of this point of view would be Harold S. Kushner, When Bad Things Happen to Good People. Rabbi Kushner concludes that God is loving, but is incapable of doing anything about our suffering.
 Cf. James L. Mays, Psalms, 441: “Hope attached to [God’s] reign is founded on a reality that does not pass away. The God of Israel is king of the universe; ‘maker of heaven and earth’ is a title of the God who rules all.” Cf. also ibid., 391, where he says that the formula “maker of heaven and earth” occurs in the Psalms either to reinforce God’s help or God’s blessing: “It identifies the LORD as the one whose power in help and in blessing is unlimited by anything that is.”
 Cf. J. Clinton Mccann, Jr, “The Book Of Psalms,” New Interpreters Bible, IV:1264. He says that these verses portray “a God who cares about human hurt and who acts on behalf of the afflicted and the oppressed.” He adds that they constitute “a policy statement for the
. The sovereign God
stands for and works for justice, not simply as an abstract principle but as an
embodied reality—provision for basic human needs, liberation from oppression,
empowerment for the disenfranchised and dispossessed.” Cf. similarly H.-J. Kraus, Psalms 60-150, 553: God’s
faithfulness “consists of the fact that he sets up the justice of the Creator
among all the oppressed and poor.” kingdom
 The Study Catechism, question 22: “God not only preserves the world, but also continually attends to it, ruling and sustaining it with wise and benevolent care. … God provides for the world by bringing good out of evil, so that nothing evil is permitted to occur that God does not bend finally to the good.” Cf. Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 171, where he says that what we can do in the face of suffering is “remind ourselves and others of the light that shines in the darkness: the light of a loving God who understands and shares the depths of our suffering and dying; the light of a powerful God whose will for our good will not be defeated, who is stronger than death itself, who makes the dead live again.”
 Cf. Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 171, where he insists that we simply cannot explain why some things happen: “in the last analysis we just do not know, should not pretend that we do, and do not have to feel guilty because we don’t. We can do what we can to relieve our own and others’ suffering. We can stand by one another to share one another’s suffering and grief to make it a little easier. But the one thing we cannot do and should not try to do is explain why—especially with glib talk about the ‘will of God’ or speculation about what people do or do not deserve.”
 Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 95: “There is no remoteness from God which the Son in his forsakenness did not suffer, or into which his self-giving did not reach.” Cf. further, Jürgen Moltmann, The Crucified God, 245-48. While he speaks of Jesus taking on the “God-forsakenness” of human experience, he also makes it clear that act was an action of God himself, suffering with Jesus on the cross, taking all human suffering into God’s very own self in order to convey to us all his life. Cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ, 173, where he says that, far from abandoning his Son, “in the surrender of the Son the Father surrenders himself too.” Cf. also cf. René Girard, “Job and the God of Victims,” in L. G. Perdue and W. C. Gilpin, ed., The Voice from the Whirlwind: Interpreting the Book of Job, 226: “The Jesus of the Gospels becomes, for the Christian tradition, the decisive event revealing the reality and meaning of the God of victims, of the God, …, by which the world is created and constituted and who takes the side of the poor, the needy, the oppressed.
Source of Joy
I think it would be hard to dispute the assertion that we are the most-entertained generation in the history of the world. The vast changes in communications technology over the last decades has opened up means of entertainment that many of us could never have imagined. Growing up in a home with a color TV, I was content with the half a dozen channels we could get (when the antenna was adjusted the right way). Now, not only do we have access to hundreds of channels on our TV’s, there are many more options as well. We can stream just about anything we want to watch any time we want to watch it through Netflix, Amazon, Hulu, and YouTube. And we’re not restricted to a TV; we can watch all of that on a tablet, or even a mobile phone. I’d have to say we are the most-entertained generation in the history of the world!
But I wouldn’t say that instant entertainment has translated into our being the happiest generation in the history of the world. In fact, I would say that many of us use those entertainment options primarily as a substitute for real happiness. It’s very easy to fall into the pattern of using the entertainment choices we have available to distract ourselves from what’s really going on in our lives. We would rather lose ourselves in something playing out on a screen, whether a movie, a TV program, a video, or a game, than face the sometimes lonely and empty places in our lives. But the catch is that whatever we may be trying to avoid is still there after we turn off the screen.
Because of the popularity of that approach to finding a way to enjoy life—or at least to distract ourselves from not enjoying it—I think our lesson from the Psalms for today must seem strange. The psalmist calls upon all creation and every creature in it to rejoice because of who God is and what God has done and will do. I’m not sure that even comes up on the radar screen for many of us. We’re used to instant gratification, immediate results, and a pay-off with no delay. The approach of the Scripture lesson requires us to take a longer look at life, at what it means to truly be happy, and how to find that happiness.
The psalmist calls all creation to be joyful about the fact that “The LORD reigns! The world stands firm and cannot be shaken” (Ps. 96:10, NLT). That sounds like good news. It is reassuring to be told that the world in which we live is established on the firm foundation of God’s reign. That can be good news for those of us who are aware of how vulnerable our lives seem to be in the face of the constant changes all around us. The psalmist calls us to rejoice over the fact that “He’s got the whole world in his hands,” even when our circumstances might not appear to back that up.
But the psalmist also calls us to join with all creation in celebrating the promise that God is coming to judge the world and all the peoples in it. That might not make sense to us. We tend to associate judgment with punishment, so why would we want to celebrate that? And yet, I think we have a basic misunderstanding about the nature and purpose of God’s judgment. The psalmist says, “He will judge the peoples with equity” (Ps. 96:10). He restates it at the end by saying, “He will judge the world with righteousness, and the peoples with his truth” (Ps. 96:13). At first glance, that might not look like a reason for joy.
But the idea here is not primarily one of punishment. God exercises his reign in our world through setting right everything that does not line up with the way God intends for things to be. That’s what God’s role of “judging” is about. It’s a matter of relieving those who have been oppressed and defending those who have been falsely accused. The end result of God’s role of “judging” is a fair share for every one. I like Gene Peterson’s translation in The Message: “he comes to set everything right on earth, Set everything right, treat everyone fair” (Ps. 96:13).
In fact, the psalmist is so enthusiastic in his insistence that God’s reign in our lives is a source of joy that he expresses that idea in a variety of ways. He uses five different Hebrew words to describe the joy of all creation over God’s reign. We are invited to join in celebrating, rejoicing, reveling, and shouting for joy with the whole created order over the promise that God will set things right in this world where “the wrong seems oft so strong.” We are called on to worship God with joy because of the promise that he will see to it that his will is done on earth as it is in heaven.
Happiness is an elusive quality for most of us. It seems like just when you get your life on track in one area, everything flies apart somewhere else. When our happiness depends mainly on our circumstances, our experience of life can be up or down depending on what each day brings. To some extent, that’s just life. But the psalmist offers us a source of joy that is beyond the constantly changing conditions of our lives. The psalmist invites us to join with the whole of creation in finding joy in the promise that the God who reigns over all things will one day right every wrong, heal all that is broken, and wipe away every tear. That is the outcome of God’s “judgment.” But this is more than a “pie in the sky” promise for the future. Because the truth is that even now God “has the whole world in his hands,” and he is working in all of our lives to set things right. If we can hold onto that essential faith, then perhaps we can begin to find in God’s constant presence and work in our lives a true source of joy.
 ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 5/29/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
 Cf. James L. Mays, Psalms, 309, where he says that on the basis of the affirmation that the Lord reigns, the Psalm insists that “the world is reliable, the earth is stable, the human home is dependable. Life does not need to be lived in anxiety. So the very elements of the world are summoned to rejoice before the LORD because of the stability his power establishes (vv. 11-12).”
 It is interesting to note, as J. Clinton McCann, Jr, “The Book Of Psalms” New Interpreters Bible IV:1065, does, that it is possible that Psalm 96 was written in response to Israel’s deliverance from captivity in Babylon. He says, “The ‘new song’ may also be understood as the response to a historical event, such as the return of the exiles from Babylonian captivity. In this regard, it is significant that Isaiah 40–55, which originated as a response to exile, also invites the people to ‘sing to the LORD a new song’ (Isa 42:10 NRSV) in response to the ‘new thing’ (Isa 43:19; see 42:9) that God is doing in returning the exiles to their land.” He also points out (ibid.) that “Both texts are concerned with the proclamation of “good tidings” or “good news” (Isa 40:9; 41:27; 42:7; … Ps 96:2b) involving the reign of God (Ps 96:10; Isa 52:7), the proper response to which is singing for joy (Ps 96:12; Isa 52:8). And in both texts, God’s purpose is justice (Ps 96:10, 13; Isa 42:1, 3-4) for the earth and its peoples (Ps 96:7, 10, 13; Isa 42:1; 45:22-23; 49:1-6; 52:10; 55:4-5).”
 Cf. Mays, Psalms, 309, where he says that the idea of the Lord’s reign also points toward the affirmation that “the affairs of people will be ordered according to equity. History and society are not left to the capriciousness of fickle gods or the arbitrary decisions of human rulers. Instead, the LORD will rule with righteousness and faithfulness. There is power that sets things right, a might that can be trusted.”
 Cf. F. Hossfeld & E. Zenger, Psalms 2: A commentary on Psalms 51-100, 466: “In v. 13b the manner of judging is described: “with justice and in his faithfulness.” We find here an unusual pair of words for the characteristics of YHWH through which a judgment applied to the rejoicing world—thus not a judgment for punishment—is described [Cf. Deut 32:4; Isa 11:5; Pss 33:4; 40:11; 143:1].”
 Cf. McCann, “The Book Of Psalms” NIB IV:1066: “the establishment of justice and righteousness is the hallmark of God’s reign (see Pss 97:2; 98:9; 99:4). God’s justice and righteousness mean “equity” (see Pss 9:8; 98:9; 99:4) rather than partiality (see Ps 82:2), faithfulness (v. 13; see also Pss 89:49; 92:2 …) rather than neglect (see Ps 82:3-4).”
 Cf. Jürgen Moltman, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 77: “The gospel is already understood in the eschatological, universal sense in Deutero-Isaiah and in Psalm 96. ‘Yahweh is king’ means salvation for the world of the nations, beyond the restoration of the people of God: ‘Tell of his salvation from day to day. Declare his glory among the nations, his marvellous works among all the peoples!… Say among the nations, “Yahweh reigns!” ’ (Ps. 96:2ff.).” Cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, Sun of Righteousness, Arise!: God’s Future for Humanity and the Earth, 142: “Ps. 96:10–13 gives a wonderful description of the ‘last judgment’ as an image of hope.”
 Cf. McCann, “The Book of Psalms,” NIB IV:1066: “The invitation to praise in Ps 96:7-9 is essentially the same as that in Ps 29:1-2, except that the invitation in 96:7 is extended to the ‘families of the peoples’ rather than to the ‘heavenly beings.’ This difference suggests at least that God’s sovereignty is to be effective on earth as well as in heaven. To hear Psalms 96 and 29 together is to be taught to pray, in effect, ‘thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.’ Like Psalm 96, the perspective of the Lord’s Prayer is eschatological. Reciting it, we both affirm the present reality of God’s reign—‘thine is the kingdom’—and pray for the coming of God’s reign—‘thy kingdom come.’”