Setting Things Right

 Setting Things Right

Matthew 3:1-17[1]

I don’t know anyone who doesn’t want the world to be a better place for their children and grandchildren. I say that because it seems to me that the level of division in this country has gotten to the place where we see people as “enemies” and as a “threat” simply because they hold different points of view. One of the things that most of us disagree about is what it will take to make the world a better place for our children and grandchildren. Some think that we need a free market that encourages those who have wealth to invest it in our economy. Others believe we need equal opportunities for people of all walks of life. Some will say we need to invest more money in educating our children. And there are many who believe that people need to return to church as a way of making God more central to their lives. I’m sure all of these views make some valid points. But I’m also sure that not all of us are ever going to agree completely on what it will take to make a better world.

I would say that our gospel lesson for today actually addresses the question of what it will take to make this world a better place. It talks about the ministry of John the baptizer, whom many in his day considered to be a prophet. And like the prophets of old, when some of the Jewish leaders came to present themselves for baptism, John told them to get their lives right with God first. I think it’s easy to miss that message from the prophets. More often than not, prophets called people to return to God, just like John the baptizer. Part of the problem is that the way they called people to return to God was by insisting that they practice true justice. If you read the story of the Jewish people, you find that their leaders were inconsistent to say the least about leading the people according to God’s standards for justice.

As I’ve said many times, I’m not sure we really get what the prophets were talking about when they called people to practice justice. Part of the reason for that is that our idea of justice is very different from theirs. In our world, “justice” is something that happens in courtrooms. Justice is about arbitrating disputes and determining guilt or innocence and handing down punishments for crimes. So when we hear, “he will bring justice to all the nations” (Isa 42:1), we think he’s going to punish people. But in the Bible, God’s justice means food for the hungry, freedom for the prisoners, lifting up those who are bowed down under heavy burdens, and protecting the refugees, the widows, and the orphans. That tradition begins with Moses, and it runs throughout the prophets, and Jesus adopts it as well. In the language of the prophets, this kind of justice is what makes it possible for all people to thrive together. And that’s what the prophets call “peace.”

We see this also in our lesson from the prophet Isaiah for today. The mission of the “Servant” of the Lord is to “bring justice to the nations” (Isa. 42:1, NLT). That might sound ominous to our ears, but the way the prophet describes it is anything but ominous. Our lesson says it this way: “He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle” (Isa. 42:3, NLT). I like the way Gene Peterson renders it in The Message translation: “He won’t brush aside the bruised and the hurt and he won’t disregard the small and insignificant.” And the whole purpose of all of this was that he would “bring justice to all who have been wronged.” Or, as Gene Peterson puts it, “he’ll steadily and firmly set things right.” That’s what justice means. Setting things right in this world, especially for those who have been wronged.

That brings us back to our gospel lesson. There’s a strange dialogue between John the baptizer and Jesus. When Jesus presents himself to be baptized, John objects, “I need to be baptized by you” (Mt. 3:14)!  Jesus’ response might seem confusing: “it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness” (Mt. 3:15). One would think that if anyone had “fulfilled all righteousness,” it was Jesus.  Once again, I think The Message captures the meaning well: “God’s work, putting things right all these centuries, is coming together right now in this baptism.” That’s how Gene Peterson interprets that phrase, “fulfilling all righteousness”: “God’s work” of “putting things right.” I think, in a very real sense, that’s what was going on. In his baptism Jesus was “fulfilling all righteousness” by making a public declaration that he was going to take the side of God’s justice in the world. He was going to promote God’s work of setting things right and lifting the burdens from the oppressed.

When Jesus announced at his baptism that his ministry would be following the path of setting things right for “the bruised and the hurt” along with “the small and insignificant,” I’m sure there were some who were shocked. Others may have even been offended. But Jesus was following the path that the prophets of old had laid out. I’ll have to admit that my understanding of what the Bible has to say about justice and about “setting things right” changed dramatically after I really read the books of the prophets in a way that I finally paid attention to what they were saying. When you pay attention, what you find is that more often than not, the prophets were calling out those in power for taking advantage of those who were weak and vulnerable. And if we pay attention to what Jesus was about, it seems to me that his declaration to John the baptizer that he was there to set things right was consistent with what the prophets had preached long before him. If we read Matthew’s Gospel we find that’s exactly what he did. He went about setting things right by feeding the hungry, lifting up those who were burdened, and caring for the most vulnerable, especially refugees, widows, orphans. From a biblical standpoint, that’s what justice looks like. That’s what setting things right looks like.

I sometimes think about a story my grandpa Brehm used to tell me. During the Great Depression in the 1930’s, my grandpa ran a grocery store in McAllen, TX. Most of his customers were able to pay for their groceries, but there were always some who needed to buy food on “credit.” That’s not like paying with a credit card. That meant that my grandpa extended “credit” to them. And my grandpa told me that while they did their best to pay him, not everyone could. But he gave them their groceries because he knew they needed food for their families. Some may have thought my grandpa was crazy for giving food to people he knew could never pay him. But he gave it to them because he knew they had families to feed, the same as he did. And although he may never have seen the results, I have to believe that my grandpa’s generosity likely made all the difference in the world for some of those people’s lives. I have to believe It made it possible for them to give their children and their grandchildren a better life. I would say that if we’re looking for a way to make this world a better place for our children and grandchildren, perhaps that’s where we should start. We can start by heeding Jesus’ words: “When I was hungry, you gave me something to eat, and when I was thirsty, you gave me something to drink. When I was a stranger, you welcomed me” (Mt 25:35, CEV). I think that’s a good place to start trying to set things right in this world, trying to make this a better world for our children and grandchildren, as well as our friends and neighbors.

---

[1] © 2026 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 1/11/ 2026 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

The Light Keeps Shining

The Light Keeps Shining

John 1:1-18[1]

I’m pretty sure that most of us no longer remember what it’s like to light a candle to bring light into a dark room. We use candles these days more for decoration, or the fragrance, or simply the “presence” of a light on a dark night. I’ve grown up entirely with “artificial” lighting in my home. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t have artificial lighting in my home. The only time I ever used candles for lighting was when we had hurricanes or other storms that knocked out our electricity. Some of you may still use candles for that, but most of us don’t even use candles for “emergency” light anymore. Instead, we buy battery-powered lamps that are much brighter. We use candles for decoration. We use electricity for lighting, and even a relatively dim 60-watt bulb is the equivalent of 60 to 70 candles. And we typically have much brighter lighting going in our houses. We have flashlights on our phones that may overpower a single candle, and even the light from the screens we have going constantly can be brighter than a candle. I have a handheld flashlight that can be positively blinding! Some of you may as well. I’m pretty sure we don’t view a single candle as a source of light any longer.

By contrast, the whole Bible was written in a time when there was no artificial lighting. Candles and oil lamps were the sources of light. There were no street lamps, and none of the lighting they had was “instant,” like the flip of a switch or the push of a button. You had to actually “light” a candle or a lamp. And not with a device that you “clicked” on and off. Not with a match that could took from a box and could simply strike to light it. I think it’s hard for some of us to relate to a world not filled with artificial light. We’re so dependent on flipping a switch or pushing a button and having instant light. I would say that we may not be entirely comfortable with that kind of darkness—real darkness. The darkness you experience when you’re off in the wilderness. Some people can enjoy it. The light of a campfire in the wilderness, or the light of the stars and the moon on a clear night, can be mesmerizing. But for some of us that kind of darkness can feel oppressive, or depressing, or even frightening.

John’s Gospel presents the good news of Jesus Christ in terms of light shining in the darkness. Not only do I think that we have difficulty appreciating the light, we may a hard time grasping the darkness of our world. There is much that makes this a truly wonderful world, but we also live in a world full of darkness. We’re surrounded by it—violence in our schools, poverty that reduces working people to living in their cars, and racism that sparks hate crimes against people of color and of different faiths. But the darkness can be within as well. Many live in constant fear. They struggle with loneliness, depression, and even despair. They carry wounds and burdens inside them that the rest of us don’t normally see. Then there’s the darkness that exists in our world on a broader scale, from the corruption of greed to the destruction of warfare. We live in a world that can feel very dark indeed at times.

The good news of our Gospel reading for today is that Jesus came into this world as light. The light that he brings is called “life” in John’s Gospel, and it’s for everyone (Jn. 1:4). John’s Gospel wasn’t talking about “life” in terms of everyday, walking around, living-and-breathing life. The point was that Jesus came to bring a different quality of living. Rather than living in the darkness of fear or greed or hatred, Jesus came to bring a quality of living defined by God’s “grace and truth” (Jn. 1:14). God’s “truth” calls us to a life defined by love—the love Jesus demonstrated by giving his life for us all. God’s “grace” assures us that there’s nothing we can do to make God love us more and there’s nothing we can do to make God love us less. This grace and truth together offer us a quality of living that shines like a light in the darkness because when we know that God accepts us, we not only accept ourselves, but we can also accept others. That can be real light in this world for a lot of people. It can change our whole outlook on life!

The phrase in this passage that sticks in my mind is the one that says, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” (Jn. 1:5). There are some difficulties with this verse, including even how to translate it. Some of the older versions say, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.”[2] But I think the more pressing problem we have to deal with is that Jesus, the light of the world, was brutally executed on a Roman cross. Despite our faith that Jesus was raised from the dead and lives even now, some still today would say that the light of God’s grace and truth and love that Jesus brought into this world has been extinguished by the overwhelming power of darkness in our world. At least there are some people who feel like the darkness has “put out” that light. They have a hard time seeing the “light” in their lives. They have a hard time seeing that the “light” makes any difference for them. I think those whose lives have been “overcome” by darkness may have difficulty putting their faith in Jesus as the “light of the world.”

But you don’t have to have been totally overcome by the darkness in this world to have known its effect in your life. I would say that most of us here today have experienced some form of “darkness” in our lives. Whether it’s the greed that may deprive us of home or career, or the fear that violence in its many forms can instill, or the anger and even hatred we may feel toward others, whether it’s any kind of mistreatment we’ve experienced, most of us have known the power of darkness in this world. I don’t think the promise of the gospel here is that we will never have to suffer from the power of darkness in our world. The promise is that the darkness, however powerful it may be, does not overcome the light. I like the way the Good News Bible says it: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has never put it out.”

However dark this world may feel to us, however dark our lives in this world may feel, the good news of the Gospel of Jesus Christ is that the light of God’s grace and truth and love in Jesus Christ always shines, and the darkness has never put it out. I also like the way our version for today, the Contemporary English Version, puts it: “The light keeps shining in the dark, and darkness has never put it out.” The faith, hope, and love that God’s love in Jesus brought into this world live still in our hearts, no matter what we have had to endure. “The light keeps shining in the dark, and darkness has never put it out.” The quality of living that Jesus brought to us through God’s love is like a candle that gives its light to all in darkness, and it’s a light that never goes out. But it’s a different kind of light than what were used to. It’s like candlelight. Candle light is soft, gentle, and reassuring. We may have to look harder for it in the midst of all the other sources of so-called “light” in our world. But the light of God’s grace and truth and love is there, a light shining in the darkness. “The light keeps shining in the dark, and darkness has never put it out.” And that light will keep shining in our world until there is no more darkness. And the darkness will never put it out!

---

[1] © 2026 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 1/4/2026 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] For example, the King James, New King James, and New American Standard versions.

Born That Man No More May Die

 Born That Man No More May Die

Hebrews 2:10-18[1]

On Christmas Eve, we talked about how the light of God’s love shines in the darkness. And, as Henri Nouwen reminded us, “a little bit of light can dispel a lot of darkness.” For many of us, there’s no darkness we fear more than death. It’s the ultimate unknown. I realize that when we are young, death may seem remote and almost unreal. Until someone your age passes away. I had that happen to me when I was in college. Or perhaps a close family member whom you loved. Then the stark reality hits you. And when it does, most of us are unprepared for the fear that grips us. In response to that fear, we in this culture seem obsessed with keeping death as far away from us as possible. In days of old, people would die at home, and the family would care for their body. Now all of that is removed from our presence. And perhaps for good reason—there seems to be no logic, no rhyme or reason to the way the “grim reaper” takes its victims. Our inability to make any sense out of death only increases our fear.

But our New Testament lesson for today presents us with the good news that, because we bear this burden of mortality, Jesus also came as one of us, made of flesh and blood. He came not only to God’s unfailing love and continual presence with us, but he also came specifically bearing our mortality so that he could die as one of us. And the purpose of his death was to “free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death” (Heb. 2:15). Though the Scripture text doesn’t spell out precisely how it is that he sets us free from the fear of death, the New Testament elsewhere reminds us that Jesus didn’t just come to die, but also to be raised from the dead, and by doing so to triumph over all the powers of darkness in this world, most importantly death. 

Part of the purpose of his coming in the vulnerability of our flesh and blood was to demonstrate that our God is not so high and exalted as to be unconcerned with or unmoved by our burdens. There have been many who have believed that throughout the ages. Some of our “founding fathers” in this country believed God was like a clockmaker who made the clock, wound it up and let it go. It’s a belief system called “Deism.” They believed that God created the world, stood back, and lets it go on its way, but doesn’t get involved. On the contrary, the “gospel of Christmas” is that, by entering our broken and confusing existence as Immanuel, “God-who-is-with-us,” Jesus took all the burdens that we bear on himself. And so he made it clear that God is not the cold and distant deity whom some people have cringed before, and at times even hated. Rather, God is the one who loves us so much that, as we say in one of our confessions of faith, Jesus died to show us God’s love as “a love that is ready to suffer for our sakes.”[2]   

That may seem like a strange thing to say about God. It was the conclusion Dietrich Bonhoeffer came to as he sat in his cell in a Nazi prison camp. He said, “God lets himself be pushed out of the world on to the cross. He is weak and powerless in the world, and that is precisely the way, the only way, in which he is with us and helps us. … only the suffering God can help.” I think Bonhoeffer knew whereof he spoke. It would not be long before he would lose his life at the hands of the Nazis. Our lesson for today puts it this way: “Because Jesus himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested” (Heb. 2:18).

But that really is the question, isn’t it? Can a God who is vulnerable enough to enter our brokenness really be powerful enough to do something about it?  Wouldn’t it seem that a God who is able to suffer with us is a God who is just as impotent as we are in the face of our suffering and ultimately our experience of death? In fact, that has been what some have concluded: God loves us, and God suffers with us, but at the end of the day, that’s about all God can do for us. If that’s the case, I’m not sure many would conclude that a “suffering God” is “able to help” us at all. 

Others are unwilling to relegate God (and us) to such a helpless state in which our experience with death leaves us with a mystery of suffering that we cannot solve by any means. So they insist that though our experience of suffering and death may be burdensome to us now, God will ultimately bring good from it. The same confession I cited earlier says, “nothing evil is permitted to occur that God does not bend finally to the good.”[3] And there is some comfort to that. But “finally” or “ultimately” can seem like a very long time. It can seem like a very long time. So what are we to do in the meantime? How does the suffering love of our vulnerable God help us here and now?

Well, for one thing, I think we must not underestimate the power of that love that was poured out at the cross. It may look like the Jesus who dies on the cross was just as weak as any other human being. It may look like God is unable to do anything except suffer the pain of watching his son die. And yet, if we were to conclude that, we would be vastly underestimating the power of God’s love. One of my schoolmates offered a clarification of Bonhoeffer’s famous phrase by saying, “Only the suffering God can help, but it is only the suffering of the God who has greater power than we do over suffering that is able to help.”[4] And God does have greater power than we do over suffering, and so he is able to help.

Yes, love can be vulnerable. It does not retaliate, it does not lash out at those who may in fact take the life of the one who is loved or even the one who offers love. But love always breaks the power of evil. As we say in that same confession of faith, “An abyss of suffering” has been “swallowed up by the suffering of divine love.”[5] All the death, all the pain, all the fear that we can experience in this life, God has swallowed up into the suffering of his own love for us. Love always wins the day, no matter how long it takes to get to “ultimately.” And that is all the more certain with God’s love! God’s love most certainly wins the day.

But there is more to it than that. Although our lesson doesn’t mention it, surely the implication is there: Jesus did not remain in the grave. Death was not powerful enough to hold him. God raised him from the dead, and by so doing he not only vindicated the power of suffering love, but also demonstrated that God does more than “just” suffer with us when we suffer. Rather, as Henri Nouwen reminds us, the resurrection is the demonstration that “God’s light is more real than all the darkness, that God’s truth is more powerful than all human lies, that God’s love is stronger than death.”[6] And so in the vulnerability of Jesus taking on flesh and blood and dying for us all, and in the astonishing power of God raising him to life, we see God’s light overcoming all the darkness, even the darkness of death. And, as the Scripture says, “The light keeps shining in the dark, and darkness has never put it out” (Jn. 1:5, CEV)!

---

[1] © 2025 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 12/28/2025 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE. The title, "Born that Man No More May Die" is taken from a verse of the Hymn/Christmas Carol "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing," by Charles Wesley.

[2] The Study Catechism (1998), question 8.

[3] The Study Catechism (1998), question 22.

[4] Steven R. Harmon, “Hebrews 2:10-18,”Interpretation 59 (Oct 2005): 406.

[5] The Study Catechism (1998) question 45.

[6] Henri Nouwen, Here and Now: Living in the Spirit, 32

Practicing Love in Community

Practicing Love in Community

Matthew 1:18-25; 1 Peter 2:21-23[1]

On this fourth Sunday of Advent, we celebrate the love that we have received through Jesus Christ. We just sang it together: “Love is the gift of Christmas.” As our Gospel lesson puts it, Jesus was born to be the one to “save us from our sins,” and to be “God-who-is-with-us” (Mt 1:21, 23). That’s what “Immanuel” means: “God-who-is-with-us.” That shouldn’t come as a surprise to us. We know that the heart of our faith is about sharing God’s love with others. We know that Jesus came to embody that love in a way that would empower us to put that love into practice. The idea isn’t a new one. And it wasn’t even a new one for Jesus. In our faith tradition, Moses taught it three thousand years ago: “you shall love your neighbor as yourselves” (Lev. 19:18). Throughout the centuries there have been many who have taught the practice of compassion. What was new was the way Jesus embodied it, not just as a human being, but as the one who is “God with us.” He put God’s love for us on display in the way he loved all those he encountered, both friends and so-called “enemies.”

Yes, Jesus embodied love even for his so-called “enemies.” Perhaps the most dramatic way he did that was by praying from the cross, “Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Lk 23:34). But he also embodied it by never giving up on anyone, even his “enemies.” And he taught us to do the same. Others have also taught that. They taught their followers to practice compassion for all people and embodied that compassion even for those who could have been considered their “enemies.” However, I believe it’s true that Jesus was the first to say explicitly, “you shall love your enemies” (Mt 5:43-44). It’s probably an understatement to say that’s not an easy path to take. For Jesus, loving even his “enemies” meant giving up his life on the cross. Because showing God’s love even for one’s “enemies” cuts against the grain of everything we do by instinct.

As we continue to make our journey through Advent to the celebration of Christmas with Henri Nouwen as our guide, I think we might find his ideas challenging on this day. He described the kind of love Jesus embodied by saying, “Whenever, contrary to the world’s vindictiveness, we love our enemy, we exhibit something of the perfect love of God, whose will is to bring all human beings together as children of one Father. Whenever we forgive instead of getting angry at one another, bless instead of cursing one another, tend one another’s wounds instead of rubbing salt into them, hearten instead of discouraging one another, give hope instead of driving one another to despair, hug instead of harassing one another, welcome instead of cold-shouldering one another, thank instead of criticizing one another, praise instead of maligning one another… in short, whenever we opt for and not against one another, we make God’s unconditional love visible; we are diminishing violence and giving birth to a new community.” 

Nouwen gets uncomfortably specific about what it means to follow Jesus by loving our “enemies.” It means forgiving instead of holding onto anger. It means healing wounds instead of rubbing salt into them. It means hugging instead of harassing. These are all incredibly counterintuitive. When someone hurts us, we instinctively want to protect ourselves. We do that with anger. When we rub salt in the wounds of someone who has wounded us, we’re protecting ourselves. When we criticize and turn a cold shoulder and speak of them in hurtful and harmful ways, we’re protecting ourselves. But, following Jesus, Nouwen invites us to take a different path. He invites us to “opt for and not against one another,” to choose to be on the side of those whom we perceive to be against us. It’s an astounding thing. And he says that when we make that choice, we are doing something that’s nothing short of miraculous. We’re making “God’s unconditional love visible; we are diminishing violence and giving birth to a new community.”

I think we could be forgiven for thinking that this is all far too much to expect from an ordinary human being. But also I think Nouwen is onto something important here. The love that we celebrate at Christmas is a wonderful gift to us, and we enjoy it. But it’s not just about making ourselves feel better. The love we celebrate at Christmas calls us to take the love that we’ve received from God and turn around and put it into practice for all those around us. Both “friends” and so-called “enemies.” That’s what Jesus did. He didn’t do that to prove that he was so much better than us. He did that to leave us “an example, so that you should follow in his steps” (1 Pet 2:21). And the way he did that was “When he was insulted, he did not reply with insults. When he suffered, he did not threaten revenge” (1 Pet 2:23, CEB).

Perhaps we should all take a moment to let that sink in. When Jesus was insulted, he did not reply with insults. When he suffered, he did not threaten revenge. To borrow Nouwen’s words, when Jesus was met with anger and curses, he did not respond in kind. Instead, he forgave: “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing”! And he did that to leave us an example that we should follow in his steps. When Jesus was not only maligned but also falsely accused of the worst they could throw at him, he did not respond with hurtful and harmful accusations in reply. And he did that to leave us an example that we should follow in his steps. When Jesus was subjected to violence, when he was beaten and spat upon and crucified, he did not threaten to get even. He forgave those who were literally stripping his life away. And he did that to leave us an example that we should follow in his steps.

When you think about it that literally, I don’t think we should be surprised if we’re wondering whether Jesus really wanted us to follow his example and practice love like that. It’s understandable. That’s a hard thing to ask, for us to follow that path. But I would say the answer to the question is, “yes.” Yes, indeed. Most definitely. Jesus was “making God’s unconditional love” visible in every way possible, not only by healing the sick and caring for those who were suffering, but also and most particularly by loving his so-called “enemies” enough to forgive them. Enough to give his life for them. That’s a high standard for love. Perhaps the highest the human family has ever seen.

In fact, it’s such a high standard we may want to let ourselves off the hook. After all, can one really expect all this from an ordinary human being? We assume that Jesus loved even his “enemies” because he was much more than an ordinary human being. And we assume that no one would ever expect ordinary human beings like us to live up to such a high standard. But that phrase from Scripture in 1 Peter reminds us that he did all that he did precisely to leave us an example that we should follow in his steps. Yes, I believe Jesus expects us as those who claim to trust in him to literally follow his example and practice love like that toward everyone, even and especially toward those we may consider “enemies.” In fact, I would say that if we truly grasp the extent of God’s unconditional love for us, and the extent to which Jesus calls us to share that same love with everyone, then we really cannot look at anyone as an “enemy.”

When Jesus said, “you shall love your enemies,” he was talking about people who could literally come and take everything away from you by force, including your life. Most of us don’t have to learn to love “enemies” like that. We don’t have to fear that someone will come and invade our home, drag us out, and take our lives away from us. We find it hard enough just to love the people who spread false rumors behind our backs. Or those who rub salt in our wounds or turn a cold shoulder to us instead of standing beside us when we’re struggling. But if that’s where we perceive our “enemies” to be, then that’s where we can begin. We can begin to transform every so-called “enemy” into a friend by extending to them the same unconditional love God has given each one of us in Jesus Christ. When we do that, as Henri Nouwen said, we are not only “making God’s unconditional love visible,” but we’re also “giving birth to a new community.” Think of it: a community where even “enemies” are turned into friends. A community where we don’t even look at anyone as an “enemy,” rather we consider all to be friends. A community where we extend to one another the same unconditional love and acceptance God has given to us. That’s a whole new kind of community. That’s what the love we celebrate at Christmas is about: creating a whole new kind of community where people turn even so-called “enemies” into friends, just like Jesus did.

---

[1] © Alan Brehm 2025. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, PhD on 12/21/2025 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Henri Nouwen, Letters to Marc About Jesus, 55.