Endurance

 Endurance

Isaiah 65:17-25 Luke 21:5-19[1]

Some of you know that I’m a fan of cycling. I’ve been riding a bike since I was six years old! I’ve been riding seriously for about thirty years. When I started, I was riding with the Fort Worth Bicycling Association. We did a 35-to-45-mile ride every week, and a 60-to-70-mile ride about once a month. Of course, I didn’t start out riding that far. And these days I don’t ride as much or as fast as I did then, but I still enjoy getting out on the bike in the beauty of the world along with the health benefits that putting in miles on the bike provides me. You may know I’m also a fan of watching cycling. I particularly enjoy watching the three “Grand Tours” every Summer. They’re the Tour of Italy in May, the Tour of France in July, and the Tour of Spain in August. Each of them covers about 2000 miles over 21 days, including flat stages for the sprinters and some of the steepest mountains in Europe for the climbers. What blows my mind is that they ride a stage per day, usually over 100 miles, at average speeds that are typically (at least) twice as fast as I could ride, and then they turn around the next day and do it all over again. It’s like running 21 marathons in 3 weeks!

That kind of endurance is impressive on so many levels. I would say, however, that it not only applies to the world of sports. There are some among us who complete the equivalent of a Tour de France every month. Not by how many miles we ride on a bicycle, but by how we handle the circumstances of our lives that are well beyond our control. For example, most of you know that farming is something that takes a long perspective to be able to do year in and year out. But that can be true for any of us in our personal lives. There are challenges that some of us face that are out in public, for all to see. And then there are challenges that some of us face that are inside, and perhaps nobody else knows just how hard it can be just to make it through a day. Endurance is a part of life for many of us.

Our Scripture lessons for today present us with two different perspectives on the hope that St. Paul reminds us results from endurance. He says it this way: our problems and trials “help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation (Rom 5:4-5, NLT). Both of our lessons today present a perspective on the ultimate outcome of our faith. As I’ve mentioned before, there seems to be a lot of confusion about our what our hope is. There are those who speak of the “end of the world” in terms of the majority of humanity “left behind” to face whatever painful tribulations an angry God is going to unleash upon them for their unbelief. Then there are those who speak of the final victory of God’s saving love in a world where all people have the joy of sharing a life, peace, and freedom together. These two views can be found not only in books and sermons, but also in Scripture.

Just a quick reading of our lessons for today sounds like they’re contradicting each other. The one from the prophet Isaiah holds out a beautiful hope for a new heaven and a new earth. Isaiah’s vision is filled with the language of freedom, new life, and hope. In a setting where conquerors continually displaced people, taking their children away from them, throwing them out of their homes and off their own lands, Isaiah envisions a people returned from exile to live in their own land free from fear. But Isaiah’s vision doesn’t just concern Israel; their restoration leads to the restoration of the whole world. Beyond that, this vision of restoration and renewal extends to all creation—even the animal kingdom is to be transformed when God fulfills his promises and liberates the people. Isaiah’s vision is that what God will do at the end of all things will be consistent with what God did at the beginning: create a world full of beauty and love.

On the other hand, in the lesson from Luke’s Gospel Jesus seems to warn his disciples that the end of all things will be gloom and doom. Rather than being spared from the “tribulations” of the end time, it seems that Jesus was saying his followers would be right in the middle of it all.  He said they would be arrested and persecuted (Lk. 21:12), that they would be betrayed even by members of their own family (Lk. 21:16), and that they would be “hated by all because of my name” (Lk. 21:17). It’s pretty clear that Jesus envisioned Christians enduring whatever painful hardships and trials the future holds along with everyone else.  

Unfortunately, his warnings are easy to misread. For one thing, some of what he says refers to events that would happen in their lifetimes: the Jewish people falling by the sword and Jerusalem being trampled by the Gentiles (Lk. 21:23-24). In fact, about 40 years later the Jewish people fought and lost a war to free themselves from their Roman conquerors. And many people got caught up in the violence—Jewish people and Christian alike. So some of what Jesus has to say talks about what would happen in their lifetimes. But some of what Jesus has to say points to a time in the distant future when all the nations would see “‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory” (Lk. 21:27).

So it’s hard to know if Jesus was warning his disciples about hardships of the near future or those of the end times. I think the answer is that he was talking about both. He knew that the Jewish war would be just as devastating for Christians as it was for the Jewish people, and he used that catastrophic event to warn them about the hardships that they would face until the final turmoil when he would return. Jesus urged his disciples to “be alert,” praying for strength, so that they wouldn’t be caught off guard when the day of his return actually came (Lk. 21:34-36). And he urged them to hold on until the end, promising that the final outcome of the trials and hardships they might go through would not be their destruction but their salvation! In our lesson for today he says it this way: “By your endurance you will gain your souls” (Lk 21:8).

I think the best answer to the question of our final destiny is that it includes both hardships and final victory. I started studying the Bible seriously over 40 years ago when I was a Freshman in college. As a seminary Professor I taught the class on the book of Revelation. So I’ve given the matter a fair amount of thought. The result of all that is that I believe God isn’t some cruel bully just waiting for the chance to torment the vast majority of humankind. When it comes to God’s final purpose for us, I think we have to remember that God showed us who he is by creating a beautiful world for us all to enjoy. And the Scripture promises that one day he will renew that world. We also have to remember that God showed us who he is by coming as one of us to heal our brokenness and our suffering by taking it on himself. And the Scripture promises that one day he will complete that work of restoring all things and all people.

Endurance is something that we all need. You know, I didn’t start out riding all those miles the first time I joined the Fort Worth Bicycling Association. My first ride was pretty much a disaster. I “blew up,” to use one phrase that cyclists use. I ran out of energy halfway into the ride. Fortunately, one of the members of the club was there to shepherd me back home, because I didn’t know the way. But I didn’t go home that day and hang up my bicycle and say, “I’m not doing this ever again.” I kept training on my own. I kept riding with the club. Sometimes I would get dropped, but eventually I was able to finish with a group of riders who were at my level.

I think that’s how it is for us in life. The old saying, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step” is true. I know it may be so commonly repeated that we don’t hear it anymore. But it’s still true. And I think we might add that “You finish a journey of a thousand miles by continuing to take one step after another.” Even and especially on the days when you don’t feel like it. That’s what we call “endurance.” Many of us have won the equivalent of “gold medals” for endurance over the course of our lives. Maybe many times.

Our faith is based on the promises in Scripture. And as we continue holding onto our faith, no matter what we may have to go through in this life, we develop endurance. And as St. Paul reminds us, our endurance gives us hope. But I think you can turn it around and say our hope also helps us endure whatever we may have to go through in this life. Endurance gives us hope, but our hope also helps us to continue to endure. Our hope helps us keep trusting that God’s good and loving plans for the human family will ultimately win out over all the evil that may be present among us now. Our hope gives us the endurance to keep trusting God, to keep following Jesus, and to keep serving others. And we do that by continuing to take the next step. That’s how we complete the journey.

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[1] © 2025 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 11/16/2025 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

More Than We Have Seen

More Than We Have Seen

Luke 20:27-38[1]

I was reminded recently that our “vision” is always limited. I can wholeheartedly echo the sentiment that I’ve heard many times: we typically don’t do well when we try to predict the future. I would say my ability to predict the future is virtually non-existent! Maybe that’s something we could all say. Just when we think we know what’s around the bend, life has a way of proving us wrong. If we averaged our success at predicting the future as a “batting average,” I would say that most of us wouldn’t make it very far in a baseball or softball league! Our vision is always limited.

At least part of the problem for me is that I try to use the past to predict the future. I think I’m not alone in that. When we try to envision the future based on the past, we are necessarily limiting our perspective. Some of the best things that have come into my life have come as a total surprise. Nothing in my past could have made it possible for me to foresee them. You might say the same. Sometimes, using the past to determine our view of the future leads to a pessimistic outlook. It’s the viewpoint that says with Benjamin Franklin that “in this world, nothing is certain except death and taxes.” That kind of attitude is common, but it’s a pretty hopeless view of life. Since everyone dies, that way of looking at things gives death has the final word on everything. And if death has the final word, then we’re all trapped in the vicious circles of selfishness, hatred, poverty, violence, injustice, and despair that we can see all around us. That’s not an approach to life that gives us much enthusiasm for living today, let alone looking forward to tomorrow.

In our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus was responding in part to this kind of pessimism about life. He had been answering questions from various groups of Jewish leaders, each one intent on embarrassing him in front of the people. One question came from the Sadducees. They were the ruling priests who controlled the Temple. They were also the ones who held most of the wealth and power in their society. And as Luke tells us, the Sadducees didn’t believe in any “resurrection.” They lived in a closed system, and they weren’t open to the idea that there could be any more to life than what they had already seen. The Sadducees came to Jesus and asked him about the practice of a man marrying his brother’s widow. Moses had told them to do this so that the first child would be the descendant of the dead brother, to ensure that his name would continue to live on among the people. Their question to Jesus was about seven brothers who in turn married the same woman. They asked him, “In the resurrection … whose wife will the woman be?” (Lk. 20:33). I don’t think they were seriously looking for an answer. They didn’t believe in any “resurrection.” They were just trying to make the idea of a “resurrection” look ridiculous. And Jesus with it.

But Jesus “corrected” them. In another Gospel, he tells them “You understand neither the Scriptures nor the power of God” (Mt 22:29, NASB)! He said this to the people who were in charge of the Temple! Jesus corrected them by recalling the time when Moses met God at the burning bush. This was foundational for the Jewish faith. It was the episode when God revealed his “name” as “I am who I am.” There, God spoke of himself as “the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob” (Exod. 3:6). When Moses had this encounter, the patriarchs had been dead for centuries. Jesus drew the inference that this proves that the dead are raised, for he said that God is “God not of the dead, but of the living” (Lk. 20:38). More than that, throughout the Bible, God is known as the “living God.” The prophets described God as the one who “lives” in contrast to the idols who were “dead” statues of wood and stone. But if God is the “living God,” and if God’s very being is defined by life, then it makes no sense to view the patriarchs, or anyone else, as truly dead. As Jesus put it, “to him all of them are alive.” In other words, God’s very nature as the “living” God challenged their pessimism.

I think one of the most important points Jesus was trying to make here is that you cannot limit God’s work in the future by what we have seen in the past. If God is the God of life, that means that our future is not one that’s defined by death, but rather by life. God’s work in the world is based on promises that point toward a future that is full of hope precisely because it’s based on God’s life. Promises like “I will wipe away every tear,” and “they will beat their swords into ploughshares,” and “He upholds the cause of the oppressed and gives food to the hungry,” and “I am making everything new.” Our Psalm lesson for today reminds us that God always keeps his promises. The Christian faith is at heart the hope that God has begun to do just that through Jesus Christ. Our faith insists that from God’s perspective, the final word that defines everything and everyone is not death, but life.

I think that how we choose to look at all of this makes a great difference in our the work we do together as a congregation. For example, in the Reformed tradition we believe that stewardship is not just about money. It’s essentially a stance of faith in the “God of the living.” Because we believe in the life that God is bringing into this world through Jesus Christ, we practice stewardship by committing all we know ourselves to be to all we know Jesus Christ to be. I had a professor once define “conversion” that way. I think the whole Christian life is like that: committing all we know ourselves to be to all we know Jesus Christ to be. And as we grow in our understanding of who we are and who Jesus is, we’re able to see our lives more and more as a gift from God to be invested for the sake of the Kingdom.

On the other hand, if we choose to live within a closed system and assume that there’s only so much to go around, we’re probably not going to be willing to risk much when it comes to investing our lives for the sake of the kingdom of God. But if we can look at things from the perspective of God’s future, a future in which the final word is life, then perhaps maybe we can step out in faith. If we can see the future as essentially open to all that God is doing in and through us, we have a whole different motivation for practicing our faith, including practicing our stewardship. In that kind of future, our “labor in the Lord” is “not in vain” but rather makes an important contribution toward advancing God’s purposes in our community and our world. I think that puts our stewardship, our faith commitment, and everything we do, in a whole different light.

We all have the choice: we can live as if the past overrules any hope for the future, and death ultimately makes life “useless.” There have always been people who have taken this point of view, living without hope, clinging desperately to their lives out of fear. If we choose to assume that our best is back there in the past somewhere—which means it’s gone—I doubt that we’re going to invest much of anything for God’s Kingdom. But if we choose to live based on the faith that the “God of life” is at work among us and through us to make everything new, then maybe we can have the courage to stake our lives on God’s promises. It’s a risk, because there’s a lot about life that seems to contradict those promises. But when we embrace God’s vision for the future, perhaps we’ll begin to realize that God’s vision very likely includes much more than we have seen. In fact, I would say that God’s vision is such that we really have no idea what God can or cannot do in our lives, in this congregation, and in this community!

The next step is to put our faith into practice every day by praying without ceasing, by giving back what we’ve been given, by helping those in need, by inviting others to join us, by promoting a sense of community among us, by studying the Bible together, and by joining together for worship on the Lord’s Day. When we invest our lives for the sake of the kingdom of God, it’s a big vision we’re taking on. When we open ourselves to God’s vision, we can begin to grasp the full weight of the hope that God has things in store for us that we wouldn’t believe if we knew them in advance! When we base our lives on this vision for the future, we humbly recognize that we can’t do it alone. We need the living God who is the source of everything we have to send us what we need to do the work. More than that, we need God himself working in and through us, remembering that God’s last word is not death but life!

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[1] © 2025 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 11/9/2025 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Pleased With Ourselves?

 Pleased With Ourselves?

Luke 18:9-14[1]

As you may recall, I’ve spoken occasionally this year about some of the criticisms of religion. Especially those people who avoid church use to justify that choice. And you may recall that I’ve mentioned that Luke’s Gospel, which is the foundation for the Lectionary readings this year, lends itself to this topic. Like the other Gospel writers, Luke recounts the conflicts Jesus had with the Jewish religious leaders. Because of this, many have concluded that the Jewish leaders of that day were just bad people. Beyond that, some throughout history have used these passages to conclude that all Jewish people are corrupt. But those who do so read into the Gospels something that’s not there. To be sure, Jesus exposed the flaws in the Jewish religious leaders’ traditions and the way they selectively observed them. And they attacked him for it. Some of them even engineered his death. But that was more about a grasping for power that is a human trait than anything inherent to Jewish people.

In fact, if you read the Gospels thoughtfully, you have to recall that they were not only written to record Jesus’ life and teachings, but also to instruct early Christian churches about the practice of their faith. What most Gospel scholars like myself conclude from this is that the attention paid to the flaws of the Jewish religious leaders was, at least in part, meant to serve as a warning and even a rebuke to Christian leaders. It’s likely that Luke, like the other Gospel writers, already saw the same behaviors emerging in early Christian churches. They called attention to Jesus’ conflicts with the Jewish religious leaders of his day in order to correct the missteps of the Christian religious leaders of their day.

I think what we have to acknowledge is that all the criticisms and shortfalls of religion that we’ve been discussing don’t just apply to certain groups of (other) people. That would be much too convenient for all of us. No, the truth of the matter is that all of the flaws in religion we’ve addressed are pitfalls we all can fall into. “Religion,” as some theologians like Karl Barth have often pointed out, is a human endeavor. Faith, on the other hand, can be a spiritual matter, something that God brings about in and through us. But the ways we express our faith are all inherently human. And because we are all flawed people, the pitfalls of religion apply to us all.

I wanted to say all of this as part of my sermon today because it deals with a topic that can potentially be offensive. And I think it’s important from the outset to recognize that all the pitfalls of religion can apply to all of us. None of us are immune. I would say that one of the reasons why some people avoid church is because they have encountered Christians who are really quite pleased with themselves. Often you see it in a kind of “humble bragging” about one’s faith and how thankful a person is for the “perfect” life that God has “blessed” them with. It can come across as a kind of smugly condescending look, a pity-filled smirk that basically communicates to those “outside” the church that it’s just too bad they haven’t made all the right choices (like we have). At times, it can come across as outright arrogance. Like when someone asks you, “if you died tonight, do you know for sure you would go to heaven?” The very question assumes that they do! And it comes across as if they’re assuming the person to whom they ask the question doesn’t!

Our Gospel lesson for today presents us with two men.  One man, a Pharisee, would have been a respected member of the community. He was respected because of his devotion to studying and obeying God’s word in all aspects of their lives. Now, in and of itself, that’s what we’re all called to do. But the problem was that this particular man was very satisfied with himself. I like the way Gene Peterson puts it in The Message: Jesus told this parable about some who were “pleased with themselves over their moral performance” (Lk. 18:9). Judging from his prayer, this fellow was very pleased with himself. It’s hard not to think that he was bragging about himself to God![2] But perhaps more importantly, his spiritual arrogance translated into looking down on the other man who had come to pray as inferior. I would say that’s a clue that there’s something wrong with his religion. Again, we’re not talking about a uniquely Jewish problem. It’s a problem we all can have with our religion.

The other man in the Gospel lesson is the exact opposite. In fact, as a tax collector, he would have been despised by more than just the Pharisee. He would have been viewed as a traitor to his people and a thief. That’s because of the way taxes were collected in that day and time. It was an inherently corrupt system. Whoever was in control gave the right to collect taxes to the highest bidder. As long as the tax collector paid off his “bid,” he could keep anything else he could extract from people. And so he would hire a whole team of people who would work under him, each collecting a portion of the taxes. And as long as they paid their quota, each of them could keep whatever they could get. and it’s not hard to imagine why people despised tax collectors in that day.

Two very different men came to the temple to pray. The one had become a respected leader of his community by following the letter of the law. The other had thrown virtue and decency to the wind, and was basically robbing his own people, taking the fast-track toward getting rich. But the point of the parable was that the first man was quite convinced that his life was right and righteous and even pleasing to God. The other man came to the temple not satisfied, or pleased, but broken.

And while the people to whom Jesus told this story would have expected him to say what a good man the Pharisee was and what a rotten scoundrel the tax collector was, he surprised them. In fact, he shocked the living daylights out of them. Speaking about the tax collector, he said, “I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other” (Lk 18:14). That was the exact opposite of what they expected. But he was pointing them to something important: when we are “pleased” with ourselves and our religion, it raises a huge red flag regarding the genuineness of our faith. Biblical faith, the kind of faith that actually makes a difference in our lives, comes from experiencing the healing power of God’s mercy in response to our brokenness. And when we experience God’s mercy that way, our faith will look more like the humility of the tax collector than the smugness of the Pharisee.

Again, it’s too easy for us to walk away from a parable like this and think that those silly Pharisees really missed the point of it all. But the truth is that one man’s self-satisfied arrogance in this story is there to remind us all that we can fall into the same temptation. There was a time when I fell into this temptation. Everything in my life was going just the way I hoped it would. My life was going “according to plan.” A few years later, it all came crashing down, and it was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.

There is room in our faith for genuine satisfaction that comes from looking back over our lives and recognizing how far we’ve come. But for it to be truly genuine, it will always be mixed with generous helpings of humility and gratitude. That’s why religious smugness is so offensive. We might as well be wearing a neon sign that says, “you need God, but I’m doing just fine!” But the truth is that we all need God as much as anybody else. The truth is that at the end of the day none of us are really “pulling ourselves up by our own bootstraps.” We all are who we are only by the grace and mercy of God. And anyone who truly knows that will never be “pleased” with themselves, in the smug way that first man in the parable was. Rather, like the other man we will humbly and gratefully acknowledge that God’s mercy is a gift beyond what we could ever deserve.

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[1] © 2025 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 10/26/2025 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] In fact, although many English Bibles translate the passage to say that he prayed “standing by himself,” and many others say that he prayed “with himself,” there are several that render it with a significant difference: he “stood and prayed about himself” (Lk 18:11, CEB, NET, NASB). There is actually a textual variant in the Greek New Testament that alters the word order to emphasize the latter interpretation.  Cf. Bruce Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, 143. J. A. Fitzmyer, Luke X-XXIV, 1186, differs from the majority view and supports the variant because it has some of the most important early witnesses to the text of the New Testament in support.

Is Anyone There?

 Is Anyone There?

Psalm 121; Luke 18:1-8[1]

There is a question that has haunted the human family since the beginning. If you look at the religious beliefs and practices through the ages, and if you “read between the lines,” I think you’ll find that question. From ancient times we have wondered whether there is a God, and whether that God cares about us at all. I think this question was even at the heart of the earliest religions, when people worshipped many “gods.” The stories they told themselves about their “gods” betray a fundamental anxiety about our place in the world. The “gods” of ancient mythologies aren’t even good people, let alone “gods”! And underneath it all lies the question whether whatever “higher power” there may “out there” be is able to help us at all, and whether that power cares enough about us to do so.

When science and the church taught that the earth was at the very center of the universe, I think it may have been easier to believe in a God who cares for us. Our relative importance in the whole scheme of things was huge, and we felt more confident about our faith in God. But even in those times, there were catastrophes and tragedies that made people ask that question whether God can really do anything to help us, and whether God cares enough to do so. In more recent days, with our scientific perspective on how small the earth is compared to the rest of universe, I think that question has become even more pressing. At least for some people. Given the incomprehensible vastness of the universe, we can easily question whether there is a God, and whether any God there might be could or would pay much attention to us.

Even in a Christian context, this anxiety has been expressed through a centuries-old question: If God is both loving and all-powerful, how can there be evil in the world? The presence of tragedy in our lives suggests that God loves us but he’s not powerful enough to stop these things from happening. Or it suggests that God is powerful enough to stop them, but since he doesn’t he must not be loving. Although many have tried to address this question, I don’t think any of the “answers” really help. Most of them offer some sort of rational explanation. But that doesn’t really do much for the feeling of anxiety that the traumas and tragedies that life can bring. The only answer to the heartbreaks of life is to find a way to trust that God does indeed have the power to help us and does indeed care enough about us to do so.

Our Psalm for today addresses this question. The Psalmsinger looks to the mountains to try to figure out whether there is anyone there to help. The reason for looking to the mountains is because in ancient times people believed that the “gods” lived in the high places of the world. So when the Psalmsinger looks to the mountains and asks himself where he can find help, he’s looking for God. In this case, looking to the mountains reminds the Psalmsinger that “My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth!” (Ps 121:2, NLT). I think at least a part of the meaning here is that God is bigger than any mountain, because God created all the heavens and the earth. The Psalmsinger’s hopes aren’t confined to a so-called a “deity” that lives on a particular mountain. His hope and his help come from the God who made all the heavens and the earth, the whole cosmos and everything in it!

I think there are a couple of linked ideas here that can help us. As powerful as a mountain can appear, God’s power is far greater. I think many of us experience mountains as a display not only of grandeur but also of power. But God’s power is far greater, because God is the creator of all the heavens and the earth. That’s one of the most basic ideas of the Bible. It’s where Genesis begins: God created all the heavens and the earth. And that means whatever you can find in creation or in the whole cosmos that impresses you with its beauty, its grandeur, or its display of power, God’s power is greater. The Psalmsinger reminds himself and us that our faith that the God who created all the heavens and the earth is the God who is our help and our hope means that he most certainly does have the power to help us!

But the other part of the question concerns whether God cares enough to use that power to help us. That’s at least part of the lesson from our Gospel reading for today. In it, Jesus tells a parable about a woman who was a widow, very likely in danger of losing her home because she was at the mercy of a corrupt judge, who had no interest in protecting her. Jesus’s parable tells us that this man doesn’t care about God, and he doesn’t care about people. It seems clear that the only reason he held his position was to enrich himself. But this is no ordinary widow. She persisted relentlessly in demanding that this judge grant her what was rightfully hers, and she kept doing so until she annoyed him! That’s why the traditional title for this passage is “The parable of the importunate widow.” That’s what “importunate” means: demanding what’s rightfully yours and doing until you annoy somebody. That’s what she did. And this corrupt judge confessed, “Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming” (Lk. 18:4-5)!

One point of this parable is the contrast between the unjust judge and the God whom Jesus demonstrates as gracious, loving, and caring. If a godless, inhumane judge will finally give in to a powerless widow’s unceasing requests for justice, how much more will our merciful and loving God “grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night” (Lk 18:7). And I think the answer is that he will most certainly do so! The promise of God’s justice throughout the Bible is that God will make things right, ultimately if not immediately. But perhaps that’s precisely where the problem lies. We have lots of affirmations in the Bible that God cares about us and will take care of us. We have promises that God will set things right. But life doesn’t always confirm those promises. Sometimes, bad things happen to good people. Sometimes bad people do bad things to good people. And when that happens and we cry out to God for help, there are times when when all we can hear is silence. And that experience can leave us wondering whether there’s anyone there. That’s when we come back to the age-old question whether there is a God, and whether that God cares at all about us.

Unfortunately, I’m afraid that at times like those, our perspective can get quite narrow. All we can see is the hardship or tragedy or the loss we’re dealing with. And all we can ask is, “Why?” or “How long?”, stuck in our pain and our fears. But in this parable, I think Jesus wants to help us focus our attention elsewhere. He wants to remind us that we believe in a God who is a loving Father who knows what we need, who wants what is best for us, and who is working constantly for our good. And he does all of this despite our inability to understand how our lives are unfolding. There are simply some questions we may never be able to answer. That’s one of the lessons faith teaches us. It’s okay to ask those questions. We just have understand we may never get an answer.

Sometimes people asked Jesus those kinds of questions. In response, Jesus pointed them to the God whose care we can trust in all the circumstances of our lives. Regardless of what we may have to go through here and now, the promise remains: God has all the power he needs to help us, and because he cares for us he will most definitely do so, if not immediately, then ultimately. We see that promise confirmed most clearly in Jesus. Through his life and his example, through his death and resurrection, we learn that God’s love is stronger than anything. The mountains do indeed remind us that God has the power to help us, but the cross and resurrection show us that he cares enough to use that power to help us. When we wonder whether there’s anyone there, we can remember God’s love never gives up, and never will until God accomplishes all the good he has planned for us all, for the whole human family, and for all creation.

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[1] © 2025 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 10/19/2025 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.