Tuesday, December 19, 2023

What Joy?

 What Joy?

Isaiah 61:1-11[1]

When I was a child, the promise was made that technology would one day provide us with more “leisure time” than any other generation in history. And the idea was that we could use all that “free time” to pursue happiness. I can’t say that promise was ever fulfilled. Yes, we have faster and easier ways to do everything, from everyday chores to being “productive” at work, from communicating with one another to finding any kind of information. All those activities have been to some extent “automated” by technology. Even a task like writing a sermon. I’ve never tried it, but the latest generative artificial intelligence offers to do our research for us, and at least provide us with a draft for whatever project we’re working on. At the risk of sounding like a luddite, I really can’t say that all our technology has translated into more leisure time, or more happiness.

I think part of the problem is that no amount of technology can truly enable us to escape the reality of our experience with life. One of the fundamental truths of the human condition is, “wherever you go, there you are.” That means we carry around our own happiness or unhappiness. Technology may make it easier for us to distract ourselves by doing things that are “fun,” or simply by escaping into the vast maze of “entertainment” options that’s available to us 24/7 with nothing more than a phone and an internet connection. If we’re honest with ourselves, we’re just settling for a way to pass the time without really having to deal with whatever we’re facing. At the end of the day, when you’re looking at yourself in the mirror and it’s just you there, “wherever you go, there you are.” Whatever happiness or unhappiness you carry with you is still there.

In part, it’s been my experience that we tend to sabotage our own happiness. What we focus on stands in the way of finding true happiness in life. For example, some of us may think that our happiest days were back in the past somewhere. When our happiness is bound to the past, we find ourselves stuck in a kind of perpetual grief over what we’ve lost. That leads to what can sometimes be deep and unshakeable sadness. When we believe that our happiness is tied up with a certain (very particular) version of the future, we find ourselves plagued by fear. If we can only be happy if things turn out the way we hope, clinging to those notions only fuels our worry. In my experience, the only way to be truly happy is to choose to be content with your life just as it is, without changing anything. You choose to be satisfied with your past, present, and future. You choose to be comfortable in your skin because it’s the only one you’re going to have in which to live.

Our Scripture lessons for today speak to the issue of finding happiness through contentment. The word they use is not happiness, but “joy.” The Psalmist speaks of the return of the people of Israel from exile in Babylon in fairly optimistic terms: “When the Lord brought back his exiles to Jerusalem, it was like a dream! We were filled with laughter, and we sang for joy. And the other nations said, ‘What amazing things the Lord has done for them.’ Yes, the Lord has done amazing things for us! What joy!” (Ps 126:1-3 NLT). But instead of a song of joy, instead of being amazed enough to say “What joy!” in response to what God had done, there are plenty of indications elsewhere in the Bible that the people who returned from exile may have turned that exclamation into a question. They may have wondered what joy there was for them in their return.

As we’ve discussed, their experience after mourning in exile for decades was that they had returned to a home that was devastated, and their mourning continued. The fact that the “servant of the Lord” in Isaiah could say he was chosen by God to bring “good news to the oppressed” (Isa. 61:1) echoes indications elsewhere in the Bible that after they returned home to Judea the Jewish people struggled just to survive. That included having the safety of shelter and the ability to raise crops to feed themselves. Their lives were far from “happy.” In fact, some of them were literally stuck in prison, and the servant promised that they would be released. If we wonder about that, we may need to understand that in that day prison wasn’t a place where justice was carried out. Prison was a means of control. Kings threw their rivals into prison. Enemy captives were thrown into prison. Those who had incurred more debt than they could pay were thrown into prison. True criminals were executed swiftly, so the majority of those who were kept in prison very likely hadn’t committed anything we would consider a crime.

In that situation, the “servant” had the courage and the vision to declare boldly to all who found themselves in this seemingly hopeless situation that God was going to relieve their suffering, comfort them in their sorrow, and set right all the wrongs they had endured. It’s quite clear in Scripture that God is on the side of the poor, the oppressed, those unjustly deprived of their freedom, and in fact, all who suffer due to the heartless ways we treat our fellow human beings. And that means that God will not always stand by while his beloved children suffer and mourn in sorrow. The promise of our Scripture lesson for today is that God would enable them to rejoice with the “oil of gladness” instead of fainting under the burden of continual mourning (Isa 61:3).

When I look at our world, it seems there is precious little joy. There is some: the joy of a baby who is much loved. The joy of families getting together. The joy of faith that chooses to trust God’s unfailing love even when we don’t understand our lives. But too many people are trading “happiness” for joy. We seem all too content to find “happiness” through “fun” or entertainment. But when you step back and take a pause to really look at what’s going on, it’s almost as if every effort we make to “find” happiness only reminds us that we’re not happy. All those “fun” times fade so quickly, and it may leave us positively frantic to keep trying to find “happiness.” Call me a cynic, but I wonder if that’s because all the running around we do to find that elusive “happiness” is only a way of avoiding having to admit to ourselves that we may not be happy at all.

The promise of Scripture on this third Sunday in Advent is that God comforts those who mourn, lifts the burdens that weigh us down, and sets us free from everything that robs us of joy in this life. That doesn’t mean we can expect God to grant our every wish. The joy that’s promised to us on this third Sunday of Advent comes from the promise that God would send us a Savior who would not only proclaim the good news, but who would also enact it by relieving suffering and setting all things right in the world. If we find it challenging to see that promise fulfilled in our day and time, we can remember that the message of Christmas is 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.”[2] When we wonder what joy there is to be found in this world, we can remember that God isn’t yet finished with the saving work he began in the birth of Jesus. And so we celebrate with the words of  the Psalmist: “Yes, the Lord has done amazing things for us! What joy!”



[1] © 2023 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 12/17/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Henri J. M. Nouwen, Here and Now: Living in the Spirit, 32

Tuesday, December 12, 2023

God's Peace

 God’s Peace

Isaiah 40:1-11[1]

There was a time not so long ago when “depression” was viewed as something shameful and secret. We didn’t talk about it openly. Then it was widely reported in the news that more Americans than ever were taking anti-depressants. People believed that anti-depressants were just “feel good” pills that those who struggled with mental health issues used because they couldn’t get their act together. But the truth about anti-depressants is that they’re not pills that make you feel good automatically. There are very different types of anti-depressants designed to treat very specific medical issues. And here’s the catch: if you take an anti-depressant that doesn’t treat your specific medical issue, it’ll make you feel worse, not better. And in some cases, it’ll make you feel much worse. I’m not a medical doctor, nor am I a pharmacist. But as many of you know, I do have a life-long history of dealing with depression. I know what it’s like to try to feel just “okay” and simply not be able to do it. Fortunately, with the help of the right medication and years invested with some really good counselors, I am better now.

What medical science has only recently discovered is that the root cause for depression in very many cases is actually anxiety. I’ve mentioned that my experience with early childhood was not a happy one. In fact it was quite traumatic. So much so that I only have a few memories from early childhood. The challenge for me was that the fears from my childhood were wired into my nervous system as an adult. I struggled with chronic anxiety even after getting treatment for depression. I’m not talking about the normal nervousness we all get from time to time. I’m talking about anxiety that stalks you like a ghost when you’re awake as well as when you’re asleep. No matter what you do, you just can’t seem to shake it. Fortunately, again, with the right medical help and some good counseling, I’m no longer plagued by the specter of anxiety.

I don’t mention this to draw attention to myself. I mention it because I know that there are still people who struggle with untreated depression and anxiety. And if I can encourage one person to get the help they need by talking about my story, it’s worth it. More than that, this is the second Sunday of Advent. It’s the day when we celebrate the peace that comes with the good news of Jesus’ birth. It seems to me that if we’re going to talk about peace, we should talk about the obstacles to peace. I have to confess that even though I love the message of Christmas, for most of my life this time of year hasn’t been a peaceful one at all. It’s been one in which I was troubled by pain and fear. And even the good news of Jesus’ birth and the new life promised to all of us through him didn’t help me with my depression and anxiety.

One of the lessons I learned in my journey is that I had to take some practical steps in order to find peace in my life, like using a gratitude list, as I mentioned recently. I also have a list of “all the good things” I’ve encountered in my life that I want to remember. I have as well a “cloud of witnesses,” or a list of people who’ve been my mentors and friends, people who have believed in me and supported me through times of crisis. And one of the main reasons why I exercise so regularly is because it helps me keep my head on (at least) somewhat “straight.” But I have other practical steps I take as well. For example, I’m a great fan of the “Serenity Prayer”: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” In fact, I usually pray that prayer on a daily basis. It’s a constant reminder to me that there’s so much about life that I cannot control. It helps me remember that trying to control the things I cannot change only winds up making me miserable, robbing me of peace. Practical steps like these have helped me know personal peace in my life.

But of course, as we celebrate the second Sunday of Advent, we’re reminded that peace is a spiritual matter. Like many of you, I’ve drawn comfort from the Psalms for most of my life. And going along with the theme of promise I’m pursuing this year during Advent, I’ve drawn comfort from the promises of Scripture for decades. Promises like “you, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek you” (Ps 9:10). Or “though we stumble, we shall not fall headlong, for the Lord holds us by the hand” (Ps 37:24). Or, “the Lord will wipe away the tears from all faces” (Isa 25:8). Or, “those who wait for the Lord will renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint” (Isa 40:31). In fact, I have a list of promises in the Bible I use at home, a list I’ve had for almost 30 years. Reminding myself of those promises has been a source of peace for me for decades.

Our reading from the book of the prophet Isaiah for today speaks to us about peace. The prophet promised the people in the name of the Lord that God was coming to comfort them. But for a people who had lost everything in exile, that promise may have seemed an empty one. During their exile there were many false prophets who had gotten their hopes up. Now, when Isaiah announces in the name of the Lord that the time has finally come, it would seem they had no more faith for promises. In response to their despair, the prophet reminds them that while they may feel that they are like the grass that withers and the flowers that fade, “the word of our God will stand forever” (Isa 40:8). In this setting that statement is an assurance that God will not leave the promise that he would restore his people to their land unfulfilled. But I think it has a broader application. The idea is that God’s promises never fail. That’s because God is a God who keeps his promises.

As I’ve shared with you before, there are some wonderful promises in the book of the prophet Isaiah. In our lesson for today, the “Gospel according to the prophet Isaiah” is that God would bring the people home from exile like a shepherd who gently carries the lambs who are either too weak or who perhaps have been injured (Isa 40:11). This good news echoes through the whole book of Isaiah in various ways. The Lord promises to end violence and warfare (Isa 2:4), as well as suffering and oppression (Isa 25:8). The Lord promises to set a rich feast for all peoples (Isa 25:6), and to set right all the wrongs (Isa 28:5-6). The Lord promises to restore and heal those who are weak and injured (Isa 35:3-6). And again, in case there is any doubt about these promises, the Lord affirms, “My purpose shall stand, and I will fulfill my intention” (Isa 46:10).

This second Sunday in Advent reminds us that the promises of Scripture can help us find peace. Regardless of our circumstances, regardless of what anyone else does, we can find peace through the promises of Scripture because “the word of our God will stand forever” (Isa 40:8). We can find peace through the promises of Scripture because, as the prophet said in the name of the Lord, “my word … that goes out from my mouth … shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose” (Isa 55:11). Yes, it’s important that we do the practical things that help us stay peaceful in our hearts and minds. But more importantly, we hold on to the promises of Scripture in the assurance that God always keeps his promises. That assurance provides us with a kind of peace that St. Paul said “surpasses all understanding” (Phil 4:7). It’s God’s peace, the peace that truly lasts through all the experiences of our lives.



[1] ©2023 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 12/10/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Thursday, December 07, 2023

Standing on the Promises?

Standing on the Promises?

Isaiah 64:1-9, Psalm 80, 1 Corinthians 1:1-9[1]

We live in a world of broken promises. I would imagine that most of us have been through the experience of someone making a promise to us and then breaking it. Depending on the situation, it may have been simply disappointing. Or it may have been devastating. Or something in between. The reality of life can leave us feeling hurt and bitter. It can lead us to doubt whether we can ever trust anyone anywhere at any time for any reason. And that doubt may spill over into our faith. We may wonder what kind of God would allow some of things that happen to us in this life. I think that’s the path that has led many to question whether there even is a God, or perhaps refuse to believe in God at all. In my experience, a lot of the people who call themselves “atheists” have been through great disappointment in life.

Some of us take the opposite approach. Because life has been so disappointing, we track down every promise in Scripture and cling to them as if they were some kind of magical spell that will make everything turn out just the way we want it. If we just repeat the “promise” enough times, and with enough “faith,” God will “have” to grant us our wish. This approach to the promises of Scripture turns God into a “genie in the bottle” who is there to do our bidding. But the problem is that while we may convince ourselves that approach to faith “works,” it will not hold up against the inevitable hardships that come our way in life. When hard times come, that kind of “magical” faith will fall like a “house of cards,” because it has no real foundation. And the result can be the same: we may think God didn’t “live up” to his promise, so we’re left wondering why we should trust in him.

I think the problem with both of those approaches to the promises of Scripture is that they miss the point. The promises of Scripture aren’t about guaranteeing certain outcomes in our lives. They’re there to remind us who God is. They remind us that we believe in a God who will “never fail us or forsake us.” We may feel like God has let us down, or we may feel abandoned by God, but the promises of the Scriptures remind us that God isn’t that kind of God. God sticks around, no matter what. We may not always be aware of it, but God is always there, loving us, guiding us, seeking our best. When we look at the promises of Scripture this way, it gives us a different way of relating to them. Instead of trying to use them to get what we want out of life, we can use the promises of the Scriptures to build our lives on a foundation that lasts: God’s love for us that never fails.

Our Scripture lessons for today point us in this direction. I think the people to whom the lesson from Isaiah was directed must have been questioning God’s promises. After 70 years of captivity in Babylon, some of them were allowed to return to their home. But when they got back to Judea, the reality of their “new life” fell far short of what they had hoped. The temple lay in ruins. Jerusalem had no walls to protect them. Instead of returning to a “land flowing with milk and honey,” they returned to a land that had been devastated by war and was left a wasteland. The prophet speaks aloud the questions that must have been on the minds of the people. Their circumstances and God’s seeming silence and absence left them questioning what they had been told for generations, that God would never forsake them.

We see something of the same thing in our Psalm for today. The Psalmist gives voice to what must have been on the minds of the people who returned to Jerusalem. They remembered how they had prospered like a grapevine planted by God that had spread its branches far and wide. But now, they were like a vineyard that had been “chopped up and burned” (Ps 80:16, NLT). They knew it was because they had abandoned God in the past. And they also knew that their only hope was for God to “Turn us again to yourself.” Their only hope was for God to “Make your face shine down upon us.” As the Psalmist concludes, “Only then will we be saved” (Ps 80:3, NLT)! Even though they knew they’d failed God, even though they felt the burden of their circumstances as if God had abandoned them, they knew that their hope laid with the God who promised never to fail them or forsake them!

We all have times in our lives when we feel God’s “silence” and “absence.” Perhaps we’ve fallen short in some way, and we feel the sting of our failure keenly. Or perhaps others have let us down, and the pain of disappointment burdens us. Or perhaps life just hasn’t turned out the way we hoped it would, and we’re left wondering where to turn and what to do next. Precisely in those times it is the promises of Scripture that remind us that, though we may feel like God has abandoned us, God never abandons anyone. The promises of Scripture show us a God who always cares for us, so that we can always cast all our cares on him, whatever may come our way. They show us a God who never forsakes us, though everyone else we know may turn their backs on us. They show us a God who loves us with a love that will never let us go. I think that’s something to hang onto when life leaves us wondering where God is and whether you can even make it through another day.

In this season of Advent, our hope goes further than that. The promises of Scripture not only assure us that God will never fail us or forsake us, and that God loves us with a love that will never let us go. The promises of Scripture also assure us that the God who began this creation as something “very good” will not rest until it has been restored to being “very good” again. And they promise us that God has begun to do that very thing through Jesus Christ. In the birth of the one who is “God-who-is-with-us” and “God-who-is-for-us,” God entered this world to break all the cycles of pain and fear and suffering. In Jesus’ death and resurrection, God used his mighty power to break the power of all that would harm us, to break the power of death itself. It’s in that confident assurance that St. Paul could promise the first Christians that God would keep them strong to the very end because God “is faithful to do what he says” (1 Cor 1:9, NLT).

On this first Sunday of Advent, we’re reminded that the birth of our Savior Jesus Christ calls us to live in hope. We live in the hope that people of faith have cherished for millennia, the hope that our help comes from the one who made all the heavens and the earth. We live in the hope that people of faith have cherished for centuries, the hope that the one who raised Jesus from the dead is working through him to make all things right and to make all things new. There are times in our lives when this life may seem to contradict those essential foundation stones for our faith. And for some of us, this time of year may serve as a painful reminder of all the ways that life has disappointed us. But the promises of Scripture remind us that God is always “faithful to do what he says.” The only way for that to change is for God to stop being God. And the promises of Scripture remind us that God loves us with a love that will never let us go. As St. Paul assures us, no matter what we may have to go through, there is nothing in this life that can change that. As we make our way through this season of Advent, may God’s unfailing love for us rekindle a spirit of hope that will help us face all that life may bring our way.[2]



[1] © 2023 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 12/3/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Henri Nouwen, Finding My Way Home, 101-103, where he says, “I have found it very important in my own life to try to let go of my wishes and instead to live in hope. I find that when I choose to let go of my sometimes petty and superficial wishes and trust that my life is precious and meaningful in the eyes of God, something really new, something beyond my own expectations begins to happen in me. To wait with openness and trust is an enormously radical attitude toward life. It is choosing to hope that something is happening for us that is far beyond our own imaginings. It is giving up control over our future and letting God define our life.”

Tuesday, November 28, 2023

God's Mighty Power

God’s Mighty Power

Ephesians 1:15-23[1]

I’ve said many times recently that it’s a difficult time to be the church. It seems like the pandemic and everything we went through changed so many things. One of the great challenges we face is the diminished influence we seem to have in our communities. People of all ages view Sunday as “fun day,” not the “Lord’s Day.” And as such a great many people who once regularly attended worship are spending their Sundays doing everything but coming to church. It can leave those of us who are here feeling inadequate, weak, and wondering where we’ve failed. It makes us question whether we’re doing anything right. It may even cause us to doubt whether it’s “worth it” to continue to devote our time and energy to the church at all.

Believe it or not, church attendance is not at its lowest point in history. It’s not even at the lowest point in the history of this country. Church attendance in this country was at its lowest point by percentage of the population in the early 1800’s. I’m not entirely sure why that was the case. It was a time when the world was turning from “superstition” to reason. I’m sure that played a role. But the simple truth was that the people in that time didn’t think the church was an important part of their lives. The fact of the matter is that it was even worse during the Middle Ages. Most people literally only went to church on Easter Sunday. That was the case for centuries. It wasn’t until the changes leading up to and following the Reformation 500 years ago that people began attending worship more regularly. It makes me wonder how those who continued to worship at that time kept going in the face of such overwhelming odds!

The church to which Paul was writing his letters, like our lesson from Ephesians for today, was facing overwhelming odds. Although they looked to the same scriptures and worshipped the same one true God as the Jewish people, they were opposed and harassed by many of the Jewish religious leaders. And they faced the same opposition from their own former friends, neighbors, and family from all the different people groups that made up the church. Because they no longer worshipped the “gods” their communities worshipped, they were harassed, attacked, and even expelled from their lives. And although the Romans were in charge, they could care less about what they considered an offshoot sect of the Jewish religion.

It was in that setting that the Apostle Paul wrote Ephesians. He begins this letter with long expression of his thanks to God for all that God had done in their lives to bring them to faith in Jesus, and to change them into a people who would love and serve God. God’s grace had already been at work in their lives through the message of the Gospel and through the power of Jesus’ death and resurrection. In our lesson for today, he shifts to a prayer for the church. There is a sense in which Paul could say that he knew they already had everything they needed in Christ to live fully into their commitment to following him. At the same time, I think Paul knew the struggles they faced, and so he prayed for this church, just like he prayed for all the churches he had encountered.

The gist of his prayer was that they would be able to continue to live out their faith confidently in the face of all they had to overcome. The focus of his prayer was that they would know “the confident hope” God had given them through Jesus Christ (Eph 1:18). As we saw last week, the hope that the Psalmist held out for the people of Israel in hard times was that their help came from the one who made all the heavens and the earth. If he had the power to create all things, then he had the power to help them. This week, we hear the Apostle Paul encouraging the believers of his day that, despite the hardships they faced, their hope was in the one who raised Jesus Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand, “far above any ruler or authority or power or leader or anything else—not only in this world but also in the world to come” (Eph 1:21, NLT).

We may take that for granted because we’ve heard it many times—perhaps all our lives. But Paul doesn’t want us to take it for granted at all. In fact, he “piles up” words to describe God’s mighty power in raising Jesus from the dead. The reason for that is because Paul calls us to take a step beyond trusting the God who created all the heavens and the earth. He calls us to trust in the God who has the power to overcome everything that opposes his purposes in this world, as well as everything that threatens to harm us in any way. And he demonstrated that power once and for all by raising Jesus from the dead and giving him the “name that is above every name.”

Although we may not always see it visibly, the promise is that God’s mighty power is working right now to change all things and all people. And he is doing that precisely by what he is doing in and through the church. Paul could compare what God is doing in and through us to what God did when he raised Jesus from the dead. With the same power God exerted when he raised Jesus from the dead, he is working in and through each and every one of us right now! When we doubt whether what we’re doing is making any difference, we can look to the empty cross and remember this promise! The empty cross is a visible reminder to us that Christ is not ruling over all things from afar, but in and through the church! In fact, Paul celebrates the victory of Christ’s reign over all things as if it is something that has already been accomplished.[2] You may have noticed that today is “Christ the King” Sunday. It is the day in the church calendar when we celebrate the wonderful promise that Christ is reigning in and through us to make all things new. In a very real sense, every Sunday is a celebration of the resurrection of Jesus, which points us to the final victory through God’s mighty power in and through Jesus Christ.

That may not make much sense when you look at things. Life seems to go on just as it always has. Those who are willing to stop at nothing to gain wealth and power are still getting away with it. Those who use violence to control and oppress others are still wreaking havoc in people’s lives. And it can seem like our gathering here to sing the songs of the faith, and hear the Scriptures read, and pray the prayers that have been prayed for centuries isn’t making much difference. But the mystery of Christ’s reign in and through his body, the church, is that God’s mighty power is at work in all of it, right here and right now. Everything that we do in this church, even that which may seem “ordinary” and “insignificant,” is a part of that hope. The risen Christ who reigns at God’s right hand over all things is working even now, though it may seem frustratingly hidden and subtle. Though all has not yet come to the place where “every knee” bows and “every tongue” confesses Jesus Christ as Lord, everything we do here today, and as a church, is a part of what he is doing in and through us to reach that final goal.[3] May we continue to serve Christ faithfully in that confident hope!



[1] ©2023 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 11/26/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Ralph P. Martin, Ephesians, Colossians, and Philemon, 23: Paul offers the “assurance that there is no part of the created order which is capable of effectively and finally thwarting the divine purpose, since Christ the head of the universe has already been installed in place.” Cf. Pheme Perkins, “The Letter to the Ephesians,” New Interpreters Bible, XI:384-85

[3] Cf. A. T. Lincoln, Ephesians, Word Biblical Commentary 42, 79-81.

Tuesday, November 21, 2023

Humble Thanks

 Humble Thanks

Psalm 123-124[1]

It’s easy to be thankful when all is right with the world. At least, it seems easy. We can see God’s mercies that are “new every morning” (Lam 3:23) all around us. Our families and friends, our homes, our jobs, all the countless gifts that God has poured so generously into our lives constantly lead us to sincere gratitude. In those times, it seems like the light of sunshine blesses everything and everyone in our lives. Hopefully, seeing all the good things God has brought into our lives helps us humbly recognize that they all come from his hand. And that humble acknowledgement leads us to give thanks to God. Not just at this time of year, but every day.

It's harder to be thankful when all is not right with your world. Whether it’s a health crisis, a family crisis, or a financial crisis, hard times seem to overshadow everything else. The fear of “the worst” can crowd out even the hint of gratitude from our lives. It’s hard to be thankful when it seems like there’s nothing to be thankful for. Hard times have a way of distorting our perspective like that. We can focus all our attention on what’s wrong with our lives. We can doubt ourselves, wondering what we’ve done wrong to “deserve” what’s happening. And when get caught in that kind of thinking, it’s hard to be thankful. But that’s precisely the time when we need to practice giving thanks!

Our lesson from the Psalms for today helps us learn how to give thanks in hard times as well as good times. The reading comes from a whole series of Psalms, Psalm 120-134. They’re called “Psalms of Ascent,” because they were written to be used by pilgrims on the way to Jerusalem for the great festivals at the temple. It seems pretty clear, however, that these Psalms come from a time in Israel’s history when all was not right with their world. The original temple had been destroyed by the Babylonians. The people of Israel were scattered all over the Middle East. As they made their way to Jerusalem to worship, some of them lamented the fact that they were not able to live among their own people, but rather had to live “in far-off Meshech” and “in distant Kedar” (Ps 120:5, NLT). We don’t know exactly where those places were, but from what the Psalmist said, they were lands where they did not know “peace” (Ps 120:6-7).

To be sure, some of them had been allowed to return to their own land, but even there, their lives there were far from prosperous. Even those who returned still cried out to God to “restore our fortunes, … as streams renew the desert” (Ps 126:4, NLT). They longed for the time when “those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy” (Ps. 126:5, NLT). Even the temple was merely a shadow of the one that had been there before. The pilgrimage to Jerusalem was as much a reminder of how much they had lost as it was an occasion for joyful worship.

And so their observance of their festivals became a time to cry out to the Lord to have mercy on them. As we heard in our lesson from Psalm 123, they said, “Have mercy on us, Lord, have mercy, for we have had our fill of contempt” (Ps. 123:3, NLT). We know that even the people who had returned to their own land were constantly harassed by powerful warlords who controlled part of the territory. That seems to be the point of the cry, “We have had more than our fill of the scoffing of the proud and the contempt of the arrogant” (Ps 123:4, NLT). They were living in hard times, but they were trying to be faithful to give thanks to God for all the ways he had blessed them.

We see that effort to remain thankful in the fact that, despite all they were going through, there is a refrain that echoes throughout these pilgrimage Psalms. It begins with the question that opens Psalm 121: “I look up to the mountains—does my help come from there?” And the answer comes back, “My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth!” (Ps 121:1-2, NLT). We hear it again in our reading for today from Psalm 124. The people praised God for being on their side and protecting them from being “swallowed alive” by those who were attacking them, because they knew that “Our help is from the Lord, who made heaven and earth” (Ps. 124:8, NLT). And the final verse of these pilgrimage Psalms concludes with the prayer, “May the Lord, who made heaven and earth, bless you from Jerusalem” (Ps. 134:3, NLT). It was a prayer that, despite the hard times they were going through, God would continue to bless them. And remember, the God they were praying to was the one who made heaven and earth, so they expressed their confidence that he had the power to overcome everything they were dealing with.

Based on the conviction that “Our help is from the Lord, who made heaven and earth,” the Psalmist calls the pilgrims, despite their disappointments and fears, despite the attacks they had to endure, despite all that would call in question their faith, to “hope in the Lord” (Ps. 130:7, NLT). “Hope” may not seem to be a very powerful word these days, and perhaps there were some in that day who wondered what good it did to keep hoping for better days. But “hope” is a word of faith in the Bible. And the reason for calling the people to “hope in the Lord” was because “with the Lord there is unfailing love” and “His redemption overflows” (Ps. 130:7, NLT). The Psalmist repeats the call in Psalm 131: “O Israel, put your hope in the Lord—now and always” (Ps. 131:3, NLT). And that call rings out to us today, to put our hope in the Lord, who made heaven and earth.

Hoping in the Lord, putting our trust in God, looking to the one who made all the heavens and the earth to care for us—these seem just natural when times are good. But when we’re facing a serious crisis, it can feel like a stretch that is out of our reach. Those are the times when we need to fall back on the basics. We can do what the psalmists did repeatedly: remember all the ways that God has been faithful in the past. We may need to make a list that we can keep as a handy reminder. When it’s hard to give thanks, we can stand in the truth that we are all, each and every one of us, God’s beloved child. We always have been and we always will be. And nothing will ever change that. We can also make a list of what we’re thankful for in our lives right now. We all have many gifts to be thankful for, and in hard times it helps to have a list we can look at. More than that, taking time each day writing out several specific things for which we are grateful today becomes a way to shift our attention from hardship and fear to gratitude.

When we remember all the ways that God has been faithful to us in the past, when we stand in the truth that we are all, each and every one of us, God’s beloved child, and when we list the things in our lives for which we are truly thankful, it can be a humbling experience. It helps us remember that God has been good to us in so many ways, far beyond anything we could ever deserve, far beyond anything we have to earn. And that reinforces the conviction that, despite whatever we may have to endure in this life, we always have reasons to give thanks to God. These basic disciplines of faith help us keep on trusting God through the hardest of times. They help us to keep on hoping in the God who made all the heavens and the earth. They help us continue to give God our humble thanks.



[1] ©2023 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 11/19/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, November 14, 2023

Planting Seeds

Planting Seeds

Psalm 78:1-8[1]

Most of us have been in the place where we’ve poured our hearts out in prayer to God and for all we can tell the only response we got was silence. It’s one of the reasons people tell you why they don’t think religion is worthwhile for them. I believe you know me well enough by now to understand that I’ve been in that place myself. I’ve told you about my two divorces. What I may not have told you is that I prayed for years—for years—for my marriages to be healed and whole and stable. I prayed for my family to stay together, both times. I would say that the greatest disappointments of my life have been going through two divorces despite doing everything humanly possible, and despite pouring out my heart in prayer to God for years to keep them intact.

I understand why people who go through deeply discouraging experiences like that back away from church. When I went through my first divorce, I was so heartbroken that I wasn’t sure I even wanted to be in ministry any longer. I kept going to church, because I needed the support I found there. But I wasn’t entirely sure whether God had failed to live up to his end of the bargain. My faith was shaken for several years. To some extent, I had to rely on the faith of my friends in order to get through that time in my life. It was their faith that helped me to reclaim my faith. And it was their faith that helped me find my way back to ministry. After several years of trying other things, it was my incredibly unimpressive performance as a Realtor that convinced me that, despite my shortcomings, I belonged in ministry!

Last week we talked about some of the reasons why we participate in this church. I want to continue that theme this week. Our Psalm reading for today calls attention to one of the reasons we highlighted last week: we come to church because we’ve made a decision to raise our children in a community of faith. But precisely how to do that isn’t as “straightforward” as it used to be. As I alluded to last week, we’re trying to plant seeds of faith in children and young people who are inundated with all kinds of messages. We’re definitely trying to carry out the work of teaching the next generation in what the business world would call a “competition-rich” environment. As you may know, there are a lot of opinions out there as to how to “reach” this generation.

The Psalmist answers the question in a very traditional way: if you want the next generation to thrive, make sure to keep telling the story of what God has done. And the Psalmist said to do it in a way that’s compelling so that “each generation should set its hope anew on God” (Ps 78:7, NLT). Unfortunately, if we were to read the rest of the Psalm, we would hear from Israel’s history that telling the story of what God has done doesn’t necessarily guarantee that every generation will actually “set its hope anew on God.” That’s one of the challenges of trying to reach younger generations: we can tell the story, and we can do it well, and it doesn’t guarantee that they’ll respond. It’s the risk that goes along with faith: the outcomes aren’t guaranteed.

In fact, as the Psalmist recounts, time after time, those who actually witnessed firsthand God’s “great wonders” turned away from faith. The Psalmist says that they “forgot” what God had done (Ps. 78:11). In the face of a long history of unbelief, writing generations later the Psalmist continues the tradition of telling the story of God’s saving wonders so that future generations would trust in God. In fact, he envisions the effect of telling the story not only on the children of his day. He believed that each generation has the responsibility to recount God’s wonders “so the next generation might know them—even the children not yet born—and they in turn will teach their own children” (Ps 78:6, NLT). Faithfully telling the story of what God has done will impact a generation not yet born. And beyond that, continuing to tell the story will lead future generations to pass it on to their children.

But I think we also have to “read between the lines” a bit with this Psalm. Because it’s not only important to keep telling the story of what God has done to ensure that future generations will have a faith to pass on to their children. Part of the problem recounted in the Psalm was that in every generation there were adults who were raised with the stories of Gods’ “great wonders” who then “forgot” what God had done! It’s not only children who need to be told the story of what God has done to plant seeds of faith in them. All of us, whatever age we may be, need to hear the story again and again to nurture the seeds of faith within us! Wherever we are in the development of our faith, whether a seed, or a sprout, or a sapling, or a mature tree, our faith continually needs nourishment from the story of what God has done for us!

Some of you know that I’ve participated in Al-Anon for years. People get confused about that. I’m not an alcoholic. In fact, I rarely drink alcoholic beverages. Those of us who participate in Al-Anon are there because our lives have been affected by someone with a problem with alcohol. I recently had a discussion with a newcomer to our meeting, who thought that as a pastor I should have the “right” prayer to help her “save” her alcoholic son. In the process of trying to help her understand that’s not the way it works, she asked me why I as a pastor still find it important to participate in a group like Al-Anon. I tried to tell her that we all share our experience, strength, and hope, and in doing so we encourage one another to make healthy choices with our lives. And that’s just as important for someone who has been there for decades as it is for someone who is brand-new.

I think that’s the gist of what I want to say on this Stewardship Commitment Sunday. There’s a notion out there that “we’ll go to church long enough to get our children through confirmation.” But my question is where that leaves their children, and their children’s children. We support the work of this church with our service, our faithfulness, our telling of the story, as well as our contributions to ensure that we’re doing everything we possibly can to plant seeds of faith in our children. But we also continue do so in the hope that future generations will “set their hope on God.” More than that, the truth is that none of us ever “outgrows” the need to nourish our faith. That’s especially true when we face hard times. The disappointments and discouragements we may encounter along the way can bring us to the point where we need the faith of our friends in this church family to help us make it through and recover our own faith on the other side. We support the work of this church because it takes all of us working together to keep planting seeds of faith, and nurturing those seeds that may have become distressed by the heat of loss or the drought of discouragement, in everyone whose lives we touch



[1] © Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, PhD on 11/12/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, November 07, 2023

Why Are We Here?

 Why Are We Here?

Psalm 107; 1 Thessalonians 2:12-13; Matthew 23:11-12[1]

Any parent has heard the question: “Why do we have to go to church?” The answer depends on the age of your children. If they’re very young, you might say, “That’s what we do.” If they’re a little older, you might say, “We go to thank God for all he’s done for us.” If they’re teenagers, you might say, “Because we follow Jesus, and we want to learn how to do that better.” Those answers may or may not satisfy the question, especially for teenagers. In this age of instant communications, portable digital entertainment, and virtual reality, spending an hour sitting in a church sanctuary on Sunday morning can seem like a pretty dull and boring way to spend your time.

Even for adults, the question, “Why are we here?” has gotten more complicated. In our world, we’re “consumers” of just about everything. We “budget” our time by prioritizing activities, because there are often just too many commitments to fit into one day. It should come as no surprise that we do that when it comes to our commitments to church. And it’s really not a new thing. Thirty years ago, Garry Trudeau addressed this issue in his comic strip “Doonesbury.” In 1993 he featured an interview between Rev. Scot Sloan, the chaplain of Walden College, and a couple who are “church shopping.” Because he mentions that he believes that “we are all recovering sinners,” the couple are turned off by the implied “negativity” and decide to “shop around some more.” They’re looking for a place where they can “feel good about themselves.”[2] The fact that the church at Walden offers racquetball, which was the equivalent of pickleball in the 90’s, doesn’t help! It turns out, if you take stock in what “Doonesbury” has to say, we’ve been “church shopping” for a long time.

Truth be told, the decision to make a commitment to participate in a church, as well as the choice of which church join, can have a number of reasons behind it. For some of us, it’s a family tradition. It’s something we learned as children growing up as our parents brought us to church every week. For some of us, it’s a choice we’ve made for our families. We want to raise our children in a community of faith. For some of us, it’s a matter of our personal experience of God’s love for us in Jesus Christ. Because God’s love has changed our lives, we’ve committed ourselves to following Jesus and serving others. For many of us, the decision to participate in this church is based on a combination of these factors. At the end of the day, it’s about choosing that what we believe is truly important, and working together with a group of people who share that belief is also important.

I believe our Scripture lessons for today address this question. In the reading from Psalm 107, the Scripture reminds us how God has consistently demonstrated that he is “good” and “his faithful love endures forever (Ps. 107:1). The whole Psalm is a celebration of the fact that God loves us with a love that will never let us go. More than that, it reminds us that God’s love for us is such that he seeks us out when we’ve gone astray. If you were to look over the whole Psalm, you would find that there are several “stanzas” about how God seeks out those who are in distress. Whether they are lost in desert wastes, confined in prisons of darkness and gloom, or at their wits’ end due to the dangers they encountered, in each and every circumstance, the Psalmist says “‘LORD, help!’ they cried in their trouble, and he rescued them from their distress” (Ps. 107:6, 13, 19, 28). Our Psalm for today demonstrates that there is no situation in which we may find ourselves that God’s love cannot reach us and restore us! That’s one of the main reasons why we’re here. We come because God’s love has claimed us and changed us, and we not only want to thank him for that love, but also to share that love with others.

Our reading from 1 Thessalonians addresses another motivation for being here. In the reading, St. Paul recounts his visit to the church at Thessalonica. He had come to them from Philippi, where he was beaten and imprisoned. He reminds them that his ministry among them was one of declaring the Good News about Jesus Christ to them. It was not about trying to trick them into giving him money, which was something that traveling teachers did in that day. Rather, he says that his whole purpose was to encourage them to live in a way that was consistent with the kingdom of God to which Jesus points us all. Paul expressed his joy that they welcomed his message as “the very word of God,” and that the “word” continued to change their lives (1 Thess 2:12-13). I think that’s another reason why we’re here. We’re here because we’ve found in the Bible the “words of life” that support our faith, hope, and love. In a time when there are so many other messages competing for our attention, we come here because we want to continue to base our lives on what we learn from the Bible.

I think our Gospel lesson also addresses the question why we’re here. It’s not the easiest Scripture reading to hear. Jesus says some pretty hard things about the Jewish religious leaders. Essentially, in Matthew’s Gospel, the purpose for that was to remind the Christians of his day that they were not called to live their lives for the sake of getting attention, or feeling powerful, or any “reward” they might get. Rather, their lives were to be grounded firmly on the conviction that we all stand before one God, who created us all, and who is a loving Father to us all. And their lives were to be grounded on the conviction that we all follow one teacher, Jesus Christ our Savior and Lord. Because those convictions are the foundation for our lives, we are all called to relate to one another as “servants.” In a time when it seems like so much depends on how much money you have, or how much power you can wield, or how “important” a person you are, I think there’s a lot to be said about staying connected to a group of people who seek to serve others.

There are a lot of reasons why people decide to participate in a church. I hope you noticed what I haven’t said: I haven’t said (and never will say) that you “have” to come to church if you want to go to heaven when you die. Our eternal destiny was settled two thousand years ago on a hill outside Jerusalem, when Jesus died to break the cycle of guilt and fear that still colors some people’s notions about God. We’re here because God’s love has claimed us and changed us. We’re here because we’ve found the message of the Bible to be inspiring and life changing as well. We’re here because we’ve decided to follow Jesus in a path of service. But “being here” is not just about what we do on Sunday morning. It’s about 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 called to commit all of life to this way of life. And we gladly respond, because it is here that we find the love that makes sense of our lives. We give of our time, our energy, and our resources because we believe in the importance of forgiveness, of sharing with others in love, and of sustaining hope in God’s light that always shines in the darkness.[3] These are some of the most important reasons why I’m here. And I hope that all of us share these convictions about why we’re here.



[1] ©2023 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 11/5/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Garry Trudeau, “Doonesbury,” June 27, 1993. Accessed on 11/2/2023 at https://www.gocomics.com/doonesbury/1993/06/27 .

[3] See Henri Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son, 117: “People who have come to know the joy of God do not deny the darkness, but they choose not to live in it. They claim that the light that shines in the darkness can be trusted more than the darkness itself and that a little bit of light can dispel a lot of darkness. They point each other to flashes of light here and there, and remind each other that they reveal the hidden but real presence of God. They discover that there are people who heal each other’s wounds, forgive each other’s offenses, share their possessions, foster the spirit of community, celebrate the gifts they have received, and live in constant anticipation of the full manifestation of God’s glory.”

Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Grounded in Love

 Grounded in Love

Matthew 22:34-40[1]

I’ve mentioned before that one of the challenges we face these days is that there are so many people who believe they can live their lives without any need for God. The fact is that this isn’t a new development. It started over two hundred years ago, in the age known as the “Enlightenment.” For centuries the church had focused so exclusively on God as the only “true” reality that it stifled most of what we would see as a healthy appreciation of what it means to be human. That may be hard for us to grasp because the shift that took place then has become the foundation for our way of life. Most of what we occupy ourselves with these days focuses on some facet of human life. It’s hard for us to imagine that being any different.

To some extent that shift was a good thing. The repressive policies of the church in the Middle Ages made God out to be someone to be feared, not loved. We needed to rediscover a healthy appreciation of who we are as human beings. Unfortunately, as with many good efforts to effect change, the shift of attention from the creator to the creature as the measure for how to live opened the “pandora’s box” of problems we’re dealing with now. In a very real sense, what we are seeing today is the unintended result of well-meaning efforts by thinkers like Immanuel Kant to locate our motivation for living within ourselves. And the result is that we live in a time when generations of people exclude God from their lives altogether.

We’ve all heard the rationalization: “Church people are all hypocrites. I can be a good and kind person without the church.” It’s true that those of us in the church fail to live up to the faith we profess much more frequently than we would care to admit. And it’s also true that there are people in the world who have become good and kind human beings without any significant influence from organized religion or even a belief in God. I would say, however, that in my experience that is the exception. For many people, what they call “love” is motivated by what they can get out of it, not by what they can give. In my experience, for us to become truly loving human beings, our love has to be grounded in God’s love.

I think that’s one of the lessons from the interaction between Jesus and the Jewish religious leaders in our Gospel reading for today. At the end of a debate that the religious leaders had been carrying on with Jesus, hoping to make a fool out of him in front of the people who followed him, one Torah scholar asks him which of God’s commands was “great,” or most important. The first part of Jesus’ answer would have come as no surprise to anyone present. The commandment Jesus identified as the “first” came from the Shema, which was and still is the heart of the Jewish faith (Deut 6:5): “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind” (Mt 22:37). What may have been surprising to those who were questioning Jesus is the fact that he added a “second” commandment that he said was “like” the first: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Mt 22:39; Lev 19:18). It’s very likely Jesus was the first one to bring these two commands together and link them to one another in this way.

These days, we assume they go together. Since the time of the Protestant Reformation 500 years ago, we’ve been taught that the command to “Love the Lord your God with all your heart” summarizes the first part of the Ten Commandments. And we’ve been taught that the command to “Love your neighbor as yourself” summarizes the second part. And I would say this is consistent with the general framework of faith in the Bible: everything begins with God’s love for us. We who have the joy of experiencing God’s unconditional and irrevocable love for us respond by loving God with all our hearts. And we demonstrate our love for God by the love we show others, treating them with respect, fairness, and kindness. For those of us who have been raised in biblical faith, this is the bedrock of our lives: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and love your neighbor as yourself.

Unfortunately, in practice it’s not as simple as that. So much of life these days revolves around “self.” In fact, many people write an orientation toward “self” into these two “great” commandments. The line goes something like this: “You can’t love someone else unless you love yourself, so ‘Love your neighbor as yourself’ means you should love yourself first.” While it’s true that we can only give love to the extent that we have a healthy sense of self, that is most definitely not what Jesus was talking about here. And in practice, while I know this point of view is well-meaning, and there is some truth to it, I’m afraid that all too often it becomes just another excuse for making our lives all about getting what we want.

That’s not what Jesus was talking about. He was talking about a way of life that involves caring for the “least of these,” even (and especially) when it means going out of your way or stepping outside your “comfort zones.” If you’ve ever been in a situation where you’ve actually done that, you know that it takes more than a “healthy sense of yourself” to motivate you to make the sacrifices it takes. Most of us in this culture have very little firsthand experience with helping people living in the crushing poverty that oppresses so many people in this world every day. Those who do have such experience know that it involves exposing yourself to disease, unsafe drinking water, the danger of theft or even kidnapping, not to mention the exhausting pace of trying to do all you can for so many needy people in a relatively short time.

“Loving yourself first” can’t motivate you to love others like that. Only God’s love for us can do that. I’ll be the first one to admit that the church is an imperfect place to learn about God’s love. And the way some churches operate can leave you wondering whether God is loving at all. But churches full of flawed but caring people are the places where most of us come to experience God’s unconditional and irrevocable love for us. In my experience, only God’s love has the power to motivate, and keep on motivating us, to love the people around us in the way that Jesus modeled for us. And not just the people who are like us, but all the people around us. Particularly the ones who are difficult to love. And even more so those who push us outside our sense of safety or comfort. We need a way of life that’s grounded in God’s love for us to be able to love other people the way Jesus taught us to love.



[1] © 2023 Alan Brehm.  A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 10/29/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, October 24, 2023

Choosing Peace

 Choosing Peace

Philippians 4:4-13[1]

If you’re a person who follows the news, you know that the times in which we are living can make it hard to find our way to personal peace. Just the wars that are going on in the world right now are troubling enough. The war in Ukraine is moving toward a third year. And now, we have a conflict in the Middle East that threatens to engulf several nations. At the same time, the people of Afghanistan live under the constant threat of violence. When you add Iraq, Ethiopia, Sudan, Myanmar, Mexico, Nigeria, Niger, Mali, Colombia, and about 10 other countries where there are conflicts that have each inflicted thousands of deaths, it becomes a bit overwhelming. I think we might understand why so many people are frightened by the current state of the world. Or at the very least troubled.

Unfortunately, the history of the world is a history of violence and war. Indeed, there was a time when warfare was so common that it was simply expected that a young man would define his character by going off to war! It was a rite of passage! And many of those wars were not fought on some faraway battlefield across oceans. Rather, they were fought among the people. That’s still the reality with most of the wars going on today. They take place in the cities and towns and villages where innocent people become casualties. If you add up all the fatalities just in the last couple of years, it reaches the hundreds of thousands. And most of these wars have stretched on for decades, many of them for more than fifty years!

It’s hard for me to imagine entire generations of people growing up and living their whole lives in a state of war. I can’t begin to understand what that must be like for them. I don’t know about you, but I find that life in the relative safety of this country feels stressful enough. To be sure, we have threats at home as well. Our grandchildren are growing up with the specter of school shootings hanging over them. We all live with the knowledge that we cannot anticipate where the next mass shooting will happen. When you think too much about all of this, you may wonder whether “peace” is even a choice we can make.

But the truth of the matter for all of us, whether we’re talking about those of us who live in this country, or those who live in the midst of an active war, is that we all choose how we are going to respond to what is happening in our lives. Granted, there are some situations where we have more choice than others. As I mentioned last week, many of us may allow fear to control our reactions, and we don’t take the time to respond to the challenges of life with wisdom, faith, or courage. What we may not be able to see is that we are choosing that response. And we may not be able to see that we also have the ability to choose differently. We all can choose peace, no matter what we may be facing in life. The question is how to do that.

I believe our lesson from St. Paul gives us some practical help with that. What we should remember is that the people he was writing to in the church at Philippi faced many dangers because of their faith in Christ. Some of them had been thrown out of their families. Others had lost their livelihood, because they would no longer sacrifice to the Greek gods that were patron deities of their trade unions. Many found themselves at times at the mercy of mob violence—beaten and humiliated, and sometimes they lost their lives. These were people who knew danger quite well.

We should also remember that St. Paul himself experienced threats, even threats against his life! In his various letters he recounts his life as a Christian Apostle and it definitely was not a storybook life. Paul lists all that he had been through for the sake of Christ and the churches he served: he was flogged to the brink of death five times, pelted with stones and left for dead, shipwrecked three times, spending a night and a day adrift on the open sea, not to mention spending many a sleepless night in prison, hungry, and cold (2 Cor. 11:23-27). His life was one that was far from safe: as he said it himself, he experienced “danger from bandits, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea” (2 Cor. 11:26).

When I think about what the first Christians had to go through because of their faith, it makes me wonder how they were able to endure it all. In part, St. Paul answers that question with his call not to give in to fear, but to turn to God as our source of peace. And the promise he makes is a familiar one: “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:7). I think that’s where the battle with fear is won or lost—in our hearts and our minds. We need to feel safe in our hearts and we need to be able to think of our lives as secure. And St. Paul promises that we find that safety and security in God alone.

He goes on to assure us that “the God of peace will be with you” (Phil. 4:9). It’s a wonderful promise that may sometimes get overlooked because of the previous one. But it’s just as important for our ability to choose peace in our lives. Promising that “the God of peace will be with you” is something of a loaded statement. Speaking about the “God of peace” can be a description of God’s character: He is the God who embodies peace. It can also say something about the end result of God’s work in our world: He is the God who is working toward peace that extends to everyone. But, perhaps most importantly for this context, “the God of peace” can describe how God relates to us: He is the God who gives us peace. And Paul says that it is this God who is constantly with us, providing us with an anchor for our souls and a foundation upon which to build our lives.

I don’t believe we can rely on the circumstances of our lives as the source for our peace. At least, that’s been my experience. There will be times when life may seem fairly calm. In those times it’s relatively easy to find peace. But the challenge is finding peace when life is anything but calm. We need something more stable to help us face the fear and uncertainty of those times. For most of us, our fear isn’t about the threat of violence or war. Rather our fear comes from other threats: the loss of livelihood, the loss of family, the loss of health, the loss of home. Because the “God of peace” is always with us, we can always choose to respond to what is happening in our lives by looking to God to supply the “peace that surpasses all understanding.” In part, I believe that means recognizing that there are some aspects of life that we cannot control. We can’t control wars that are taking place around the world. We can’t control the violence that is overflowing our cities and towns. We can’t even control the most basic circumstances of our own lives. What we can do is to trust that our lives are always in God’s hands, and that regardless of what may happen to us in this life, there is no safer place for us to be. I would say that’s at least the first step toward choosing peace.



[1] © Alan Brehm 2023. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 10/15/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, October 10, 2023

Stumbling

 Stumbling

Matthew 21:33-46[1]

These days it’s hard to separate “enemies” from friends who disagree with us. It seems like every issue that we can disagree on sets us against each other. It’s too easy for us all to get upset and even outright angry over a simple matter of disagreement. I don’t know, but I wonder if the reason for this is that we’re all afraid. The world we live in has changed dramatically. And the speed at which it continues to change is one that can take your breath away. Life seems to keep getting harder and more confusing. When we’re living under that kind of stress, our “radar” gets stuck in “danger” mode. When that happens, it’s hard for us to separate “enemies” from friends who disagree with us.

I think part of the reason for this is when we are stuck in “danger” mode, our fear dictates our response to everything. We don’t really take the time to sort through whatever we may be dealing with in order to come up with the appropriate response. We simply react. What’s more, we’ve gotten pretty good at coming up with “reasons” to justify our fears and the reactions they fuel. And the result is that, instead of taking enough time to listen to those who disagree with us to understand where they’re coming from, we simply “paint” them as “enemies.” Breaking down the world into “enemies” and “allies” is at least part of what creates the polarization we are living with in these days. We dump people into “all or nothing” categories to feel safer about our world.

I wouldn’t say that Jesus was “dumping” people into all or nothing categories in our Gospel lesson. But it is a disturbing one. Jesus tells a parable about tenant farmers working in a vineyard who refuse to pay the landlord his share of the harvest. When he sends servants to collect, they beat them, and kill others. When he sends his son, they throw him out of the vineyard and kill him, too. And the point is to confront the Jewish religious leaders for rejecting Jesus, just as Jewish religious leaders had rejected the prophets God sent them for generations. And the result, from Matthew’s perspective, is that the kingdom of God was to be taken away from the Jewish people and given to others. Looking back at this parable from the history of Jesus’ death and resurrection can see that’s what’s going on here.

Unfortunately, through the centuries, people in the church have used passages like this to “paint” all Jewish people as “enemies.” In fact, they were labeled “Christ killers” for centuries. And as a result, they were persecuted and hounded from town to town, city to city, and nation to nation. The sad truth, however, is that this reflects more the human tendency to mark certain people as “enemies” than it did Jesus’ teaching. Many of the Jewish people in that day became believers. Thousands of them did! Not even all the Jewish religious leaders were “enemies” of the church. Two of the most prominent leaders, Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, objected to the way the high council was proceeding in Jesus’ trial, and they were among those who tended to Jesus’ body after his death. And in the book of Acts we learn of former Pharisees who had become believers (Acts 15:5).

I think the way this story has been (mis)used in the history of the church provides us with a caution against “painting” people with broad strokes. This not only applies to people who follow other religious traditions, but basically to everyone. There’s not a single one of us who has a legitimate claim to judge anyone. We simply do not know the whole story about anyone we try to make out to be an “enemy.” More than that, there’s only one judge whom we all must face, and that’s Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior. Perhaps the most practical consideration here is that we cannot judge because all of us share in the weaknesses and flaws that define us as human beings.

In this approach to our lesson for today I’m actually taking my cue from John Calvin. In his commentary on the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, he also views this parable as a confrontation of the Jewish religious leaders, who were originally appointed by God, because they used their office to tear down what they were called to build up. But Calvin also recognizes that all people are still subject to the same temptations that led the Jewish religious leaders to betray their calling. And so he urges the people of his day to take this parable as a “useful warning” that we seek to be diligent about serving our Lord “in true godliness” so that our work may “yield fruit.”[2] I would say that’s a warning from which we can all benefit.

But the truth of the matter is not only that we are all subject to the same temptations. We also all stumble from time to time. Some of what we heard from our Scripture lessons for today might lead us to that there’s no room for that kind of thing. Some of what Jesus taught might lead us to think that there’s no room for stumbling if we want to follow him. In the Sermon on the Mount he said, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Mt 5:48). And as we heard from our Gospel lesson last week, at another time Jesus said, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Lk 9:62). If we follow John Calvin’s line of thinking that those who fall to human temptations might forfeit our calling, it doesn’t sound like there’s much room there for stumbling.

And yet, we’re all subject to human temptations. And we all stumble from time to time. We might think that means that we’ve forfeited any claim to God’s love. I would think all of us would agree we cannot possibly live up to the demand to be “perfect.” And if “looking back” makes you unfit for the kingdom of God, then nobody is “fit.” Nobody is “worthy.” Perhaps that’s the point. We can never deserve the gift of God’s amazing grace, mercy, and love. But if it’s really true that God’s love for us never fails, and that God’s love is unconditional for everyone, then stumbling doesn’t have to mean that we have somehow forfeited our calling to follow Jesus. We all stumble from time to time, and God’s love is such that he continues to reach out to us even when we fall short. Especially when we stumble. At the end of the day, our service to Christ isn’t about whether or not we are “fit” or “deserving,” but rather it’s about the fact that God chooses to accomplish his work in this world through flawed and fallible people like you and me. For me, that’s an encouragement. It reminds me that God still carries out his work even when I stumble, and even when I fall. And I think that’s true for us all: we can still keep serving Christ even when we stumble!



[1] © 2023 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 10/8/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] John Calvin, Commentary on a Harmony of the Evangelists Matthew, Mark, and Luke, vol 3:35-38.