The Waking Dreamer: 2024

Tuesday, December 03, 2024

The Hopes and Fears of All the Years

The Hopes of All the Years

Luke 21:25-33[1]

As we begin the celebration of the Advent season, I think it may be helpful for us to remind ourselves what it’s about. In the original church tradition, Advent was meant to be a time of reflection in preparation for the celebration of the “Twelve Days of Christmas” from December 25 to January 6. The idea was that we prepare to celebrate the “coming of the Lord” by waiting quietly and patiently for Christmas to come. Lighting the candles on the advent wreath, and even using advent calendars, have been traditional ways to practice this “waiting.” Of course, these days the Advent season is filled with all kinds of celebrations of Christmas, which in our minds is over on December 26. Some people who are sticklers for liturgical correctness complain about this every year. I used to do some of that complaining myself. I’d like to think I’ve mellowed from being such a liturgical stickler!

If we think about the focus of the four Sundays in Advent: hope, peace, love, and joy, then maybe the way we “celebrate” Advent isn’t all that far off from the original intent. As we approach the end of the year, many of us may focus on the hopes we may have for the coming year. While the busy-ness of the season may make it not so peaceful to some of us, it is a time when we think about peace in our world: peace between countries, peace between different factions in our country, peace with those who may have anything against us, peace between family members. Advent is a time when we sing songs that tend to remind us of the love that we have in our lives, and the love that God has given us. It’s a time when we may go out of our way to be loving toward our friends and family. And as we seek to practice the kindness and giving associated with the season, it all reminds us of the joy we have in our lives.

I realize that much of that may not hold true for some of us. This may be a time for many of us when our hopes have dimmed and faded. We may struggle to hold onto our hope in the face of all that life continues to throw our way. Some of us may have had a difficult year, and we may simply feel weary from all the losses and disappointments we’ve had to bear. Or maybe this year hasn’t been that kind of year for some of us, but you’ve had years like that in the past. All of it can make “hope” seem like a flimsy thing to use to get through difficult times. Our past experiences may make the songs of hope we sing in this season sound hollow to some of us. So, on this first Sunday of Advent, when we celebrate the hope that the birth of Jesus represents for us, we may be wondering what good hope can do for us.

Especially in the uncertain times we live in, most of us would probably choose safety and stability over hope. As much as we may be looking forward to new things in our lives, we like to know that tomorrow will be, in all essentials, basically the same as today. We rely on the stability of the routines that make our lives familiar. But our experience of recent years may have left us wondering whether anything in our lives is really stable or secure. That’s a question that’s more than unsettling; if we’re honest, we have to admit it’s downright scary! Again, it can leave us wondering what good “hope” can do for us.

In our Gospel lesson for today Jesus addressed this question, but in a way that might seem to be coming through the back door. He was answering the questions his disciples had about the uncertainty of his times. But he did so in a way that they may have found less than reassuring. The setting of our lesson is the final week of Jesus’ ministry. What we should understand is that the political situation in Judea was unstable and even chaotic. Although the Romans maintained control through their powerful armies, there was a constant undercurrent of resentment and even rebellion among the Jewish people. All of this would boil over into an all-out war within a few decades, and the result would be Jerusalem destroyed and with it, the Jewish nation.

I think Jesus’ disciples must have been aware of what was going on. Tjhey must have sensed the tension in the air. As they were walking through the Temple, the most magnificent structure in Jerusalem in that day, I would imagine they saw the strength of the structure as a reassurance of God’s presence among them. To them it may have been a kind of promise that whatever the future may hold, God would be with them. But Jesus told them that not one of the massive stones that made up the Temple complex would be left on one another. They asked him to tell them the “signs” as a way of making the stress of an uncertain future more “manageable.” But Jesus didn’t give them any signs to reassure them.

Instead, he told them that the world in which they lived would continue to be as uncertain and as unpredictable as ever. If they wanted reassurance, they would have to look beyond the structures they had come to rely on. They would have to reclaim their hope in God. It may seem like a strange response on Jesus’ part. But I think Jesus was pointing them to something beyond what they felt they could “manage.” He pointed them beyond the safety and stability they had come to rely on in their daily lives. He reminded them that none of those things are ultimately reliable. Rather, he reminded them that God, the promises God had made, and the hope all that creates for us, are the only things we can truly rely on in this life. As Jesus told them, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away” (Lk 21:33).

That brings us back to the hope of Advent. In our worship today, we sang the verse from the hymn “O Little Town of Bethlehem” that said “the hopes and fears of all the years” were “met” in that village on the night of Jesus’ birth. I think we can easily imagine the “hopes of all the years” fulfilled in Jesus’ birth, but what about the “fears”? I’m no specialist in the history of hymns, but I would think that the idea is that the birth of Jesus relieves the “fears of all the years.” The hope that Jesus brought into this world is one that helps us overcome all our fears, especially in uncertain times. It’s the hope that God’s love for us never fails, and that’s something we can rely on when everything else around us does fail. It’s the hope that God’s promises stand forever, and that God will not stop working in this world until every promise has been fulfilled. Most of us pin our hopes on some part of our lives here and now that we want to continue just as it is. But life is always changing. It is the hope we have in God through Jesus our Savior that we can rely on through all the years. That hope remains; that hope will not pass away; that hope will see us through this year, and all the years of our lives!

Jesus is Lord!

Jesus Is Lord!

Revelation 1:4-18[1]

If anyone happened to pay attention to the bulletin or the PowerPoint and noticed that today is designated “Christ the King” Sunday, I’m not sure that would mean much. The only “royalty” we pay much attention to these days is the British royal family. But they’re really not much more than “cultural icons” as Wikipedia calls them. They’re known for their wealth and celebrity. They function as figureheads with no real authority or power to do much of anything. The best of them use their position to advocate for good causes; the others are infamous for their family drama. If that’s our image of what it means to be a “King,” it’s no wonder observing this day as “Christ the King” Sunday gets passed over without much notice.

Nevertheless, the image of God reigning over all things as “King” is one that is central to the Bible, as our Psalm lesson for today reminds us. It is an affirmation that, regardless of who may hold power in this world, God is the one who ultimately determines the outcomes in the end. That, too, may be a problem for us. We see a lot of outcomes in this world that seem to be contrary to God’s ways. It may be all too easy to assume that God’s power isn’t what it’s cracked up to be, or perhaps God may not be paying attention, or maybe he’s just taking a long nap. Meanwhile, the world continues to go on as it always has. The rich get richer and might makes right.

Our lesson from the book of Revelation for today addresses this question. In the first-century world, Christians had to face this challenge in a similar way that we do. The ultimate power in their day was the Roman Empire, and any time anyone questioned that power, they were met with brutal violence. The presence of vast and powerful Roman armies throughout the world of that day constantly reminded people where “true” power was. And Roman Governors like Pontius Pilate didn’t hesitate to unleash the soldiers on unarmed crowds of men, women, and children to keep a firm grip on their power. The problem for believers in that day was that they confessed their faith that “Jesus is Lord” in their worship! And yet, all around them were images that contradicted that faith.

I believe the book of Revelation was written to remind those Christians that at the heart of their faith was a very different vision of what life is about. It’s a vision of the one who sits on the throne, who bends everything that happens, both evil and good, toward his purposes. To convey this image, our lesson speaks of God as “the Alpha and the Omega,” the one “who is and who always was and who is still to come,” and “the Almighty” (Rev. 1:8). This description of God is full of implications, but essentially, it’s a reminder that God is the one who sits on the throne of the universe, and it is his rule that will ultimately define all things and everyone in the end. It’s a reminder that “Our God is an awesome God; he reigns from heaven above; with wisdom, power, and love; our God is an awesome God.”[2] That remains true regardless of what we see or who claims to hold power here and now.

The Book of Revelation also speaks of the one who stands at God’s right hand: “Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead” (Rev. 1:5). Again, there’s a whole theology about Jesus packed into that phrase, and it takes the rest of Revelation to explain. One of the most important images of Jesus in the Book of Revelation is that he is the lamb who was slain and who has triumphed through his death. As in our day, so also in that day, “triumphing through death” didn’t make much sense. And it still doesn’t. Sacrificing one’s life the way Jesus did would seem to be weakness, not power. But the Scripture contradicts that point of view by proclaiming that, because of his death and resurrection, Jesus is “the ruler of the kings of the earth” (Rev. 1:5). All the kings of the earth! Because of his death and resurrection, he alone has the right to rule over all the so-called “powers” of this world. And he rules over the “kingdom of this world,” and the promise is that “he shall reign forever and ever” (Rev. 11:15) as we know from the familiar oratorio “The Messiah”!

At the heart of the Christian faith is a vision of a reality that directly opposes the visions of power in our present world. God reigns over all things by the power of his love. And Jesus demonstrates that power by working in each of our lives to transform this world into “the kingdom of our Lord” (Rev. 11:15). At the heart of our faith is the conviction that this ultimate reality, God’s reign in and through our lives through Jesus our Lord, is the true reality that defines all of life. This reality, the reign of Jesus Christ as Lord, exposes the falsehood of all the boastful claims of the rich and powerful in our day. And the promise is that one day the reign of Jesus Christ as Lord will overthrow all the false powers in our world and bring true peace, justice, and freedom to everyone!

I guess the question we have to answer is whether this vision is more convincing than what pretends to be true in our world. Things haven’t changed much since the First Century. But the real question we have to address here is where we place our faith. As a recent lesson from the Psalms reminds us, if we place our faith in “mortals,” no matter how powerful they may seem, we find that in them “there is no help” (Ps. 146:3). The Scriptures call us to place our faith in the God who is working right now to establish his kingdom and his justice, peace, and freedom for all peoples everywhere. The Scriptures call us to place our faith in Jesus Christ as our Lord, the one who by his death and resurrection exposed the lie of those who abuse their power in this world. The Scriptures call us to place our faith in our Savior who lives and reigns for all time and unto all eternity. And the Scriptures tell us that one day all creation will worship him as Lord of all.

I think we need that kind of “bigger picture” perspective for our faith in these days.[3] It’s all too easy for us, especially when we go through hard times, to think nobody’s paying any attention, nobody really knows or cares. If God did, why would this happen? But as a good friend reminded me once when I was going through a hard time, nothing that we have to go through in this life escapes God’s notice. God always pays careful attention to each one of our lives, because that’s the nature of who God is. That’s the nature of his love for us. When all we see reinforces the appearance that power in this world comes from force, or intimidation, or wealth, it can be discouraging to those of us trying to live out our Christian faith, hope, and love.

But the Bible gives us a different image of power: it’s the image of the all-powerful God who created all things in the beginning. It’s the image of the God who entered this world in the person of Jesus to redeem us all with the power of love on the cross. It’s the image of the power of new life defeating the power of death on Easter Sunday. It’s the image of Jesus reigning as Lord even now over all the “powers” in our world. It’s the image of that reign fulfilled one day “on earth as it is in heaven.” What that means for us is that one day all the wrongs of this world will be set right, and all that we have to suffer in this world will be turned to good. That’s the nature of Jesus’ reign as Lord. And the promise is that Jesus shall reign as Lord like this “forever and ever”! Amen!

[2] Rich Mullins, “Our God is an Awesome God,” 1988, BMG Songs, Inc.

[3] Cf. Richard Bauckham, Theology of the Book of Revelation, 31, where he says that the “vision of God’s sovereignty in heaven” is what “makes it possible for John to enlarge his readers’ perspective on their own situation by setting it within the broader context of God’s universal purpose of overcoming all opposition to his rule and establishing his kingdom in the world.” This reign of God is “the true reality which must in the end also prevail on earth.”

Tuesday, November 19, 2024

Assurance

Hebrews 10:11-25[1]

Lately I’ve been sharing with you stories about my journey with the Bible. I think it’s appropriate for us to talk about this in connection with the book of Hebrews. The first “serious” study of the Bible I engaged in was a study of Hebrews. I was in my Junior year of High School, and I had found a booklet that walked me through Hebrews with background information and questions to answer, much like the ones that are still available today online. In fact, the splash screen for my sermon on the PowerPoint this morning is a picture of the lesson from Hebrews in the Bible I used in those days. It’s a King James Version that I keep because it was one of the Bibles I used when I started my journey of following Jesus. At least when I became more intentional about that journey in High School.

One of the things that drew me to Hebrews was that it was obvious that there is a connection between the New Testament and the Old Testament. That has been an interest of mine for decades. In fact, one of the aspects of the Reformed Tradition that attracted me to the Presbyterian church is the fact that we focus on what has been known since the days of the Protestant Reformation as the “whole counsel of God,” meaning the full biblical witness. Many of the churches in those days identified primarily with the New Testament. Some of them even called themselves a “New Testament Church.” While I understand that, I was always curious about how a follower of Jesus could and should make use of the Hebrew Bible.

Another aspect of the book of Hebrews that attracted me is the fact that there are some confusing passages in the book. For example, “it is impossible to bring back to repentance those who … have shared in the Holy Spirit, who have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the power of the age to come—and who then turn away from God. It is impossible to bring such people back to repentance” (Heb 6:4-6 NLT). That didn’t make sense to me in light of the affirmation of Scripture in general and the Gospel in particular that God’s love for us never fails. What I learned was that there are several of these “warning” passages in Hebrews. But each time, the warnings are followed up with an assurance. In this case, “Dear friends, even though we are talking this way, we really don’t believe it applies to you. We are confident that you are meant for better things, things that come with salvation” (Heb 6:9 NLT).

That brings to us to our lesson from Hebrews for today. Our lesson for today speaks of the assurance we have as we seek to keep following Jesus, even through the most difficult times of our lives. It assures us that “we can boldly enter heaven’s Most Holy Place” because “by his death, Jesus opened a new and life-giving way.” (Heb. 10:19-20, NLT). Therefore we can “go right into the presence of God with sincere hearts fully trusting him” (Heb. 10:22, NLT). I think the point is that God hasn’t left us to try to find our way to him on our own. We have an open door to God’s grace and mercy and love any time we need it. In fact, whether we realize it or not, that open door has flooded our world and our lives with God’s grace, mercy, and love. There’s no challenge we will ever have to face alone. There’s no hardship or injustice or pain that we can undergo without the presence of the living God who created all the heavens and the earth right there with us, supporting us every step of the way.

That’s what it means to “go right into the presence of God with sincere hearts fully trusting him” (Heb. 10:22). A more literal translation of that verse speaks of our being able to go into God’s very presence with the “full assurance of faith.” For example, the NIV says that because of what Jesus has done for us, we can go into God’s presence “with the full assurance that faith brings.” The letter to the Hebrews has already presented the message that Jesus died to break the power of everything that keeps us from the life God intends for us. And it has affirmed that Jesus became a human being in order to demonstrate that God loves us enough to enter our struggles, and his love is powerful enough to transform them into new life.

In our lesson for today, the Scripture defines that new life by taking it one step further. It tells us that Jesus also died to open the way to a relationship with God that is meaningful and fulfilling. An important part of the biblical idea of sin is that we have broken our relationship with God by our willfulness, our resistance, our pride, and our selfishness. But the good news is that God takes the initiative to heal that breach.[2] God holds no grudges against us; God does not need to be softened up toward us. God already loves us unconditionally and irrevocably. And so it is that, through Jesus, God seeks us out like a shepherd searching for lost sheep. And once we are found, he never lets us go! I think that’s what our Scripture lesson means when it speaks of a “new and living way” opened to us by Jesus. It’s new in that it is completely different from other ways people have taken to reach God. In this new way, we can “go right into the presence of God with sincere hearts fully trusting him” and have the assurance that he will always be there to welcome us and to support us on our journey.

One contemporary preacher calls this experience of Jesus as presented in the letter to the Hebrews as the “parabola of salvation.” By that, he means that after Jesus “moves down into human history, experienced testing and suffering of every kind,” he is “then swept back up into the heavenly places.” But “this parabolic arc was not only the pathway that Christ traveled, it is also a pilgrim way of grace that we travel, a highway leading into the very presence of God” opened up for us by Jesus.[3] In a very real sense, just as Jesus came to experience our human existence fully, so also we are in a sense, “swept up” into his experience of suffering followed by new life in God’s presence. We all have the assurance that based on what Jesus has done, both at the cross and in the resurrection, we’re on the same path into the very presence of God that he took. And the good news is that this way is open for anyone and everyone. There is no gate-keeper who keeps out those who don’t belong. There is no special password. Jesus has already opened the way for anyone and everyone to have the kind of relationship God has always intended for us to have—a life of lasting peace, and heart-felt joy, and love that sustains us even in our darkest moments. That is the full assurance of our faith!

[2] Cf. Barth, Church Dogmatics IV.1:36-38, where he says this is a fulfillment of the covenant promise, “I will be your God and you will be my people,” which means that from the start “God willed to be God for [us].”

[3] Thomas G. Long, Hebrews, 104.

(Not) Just for Show

Mark 12:38-44[1]

We like to think of ourselves as individuals who are capable of standing on our own two feet without any help from anyone else. But the truth of our lives, all our lives, is that we’re very much dependent on our place in a community. Without our families, without our jobs, without having a “place” in society, we are very much “adrift,” and even perhaps “invisible.” The history of migrants in this country demonstrates that. Whether they were Latino, or Chinese, or Irish, or Italian, there’ve always been individuals we deemed “less than” and a threat to “our way of life.” As a society, we did that to American citizens who were displaced by the Great Depression and the “Dust Bowl.” And we still do it to people who don’t “fit in,” for whatever reason.

We like to think we have good reasons for this kind of shallow judgment. We reinforce our prejudices against those who look or dress or talk differently from us with all kinds of “justifications.” They commit crimes. Or they carry diseases. Or they brought their plight on themselves. But what it boils down to is that we believe they’re a threat to our way of life, our safety, and our success. We believe that people who “aren’t like us” are to blame for their own misfortunes, while we consistently let ourselves and those in our circles off the hook for whatever difficulties may come our way. Our compassion is limited to those who are a part of our “circle.”

The real threat here, however, is not the “others,” however we define them. The real threat is the fact that, deep down, we all know that our way of life depends on being able to “keep up appearances.” We all harbor the secret fear that if people really knew who we are, down deep, it could cost us our place in the community. And along with our place in the community, we could lose everything. I think the fear of losing our place in this world, and with it our way of life, is what has always driven us to label certain “others” as a threat. But the real threat is from the fragility of our place in society.

Our Gospel lesson for today throws this issue into the spotlight in a way that might seem rather uncomfortable. Jesus was at the Temple in Jerusalem, watching the people making their contributions. The Temple in that day was a huge organization, the largest in Jewish society, supporting religious leaders that numbered in the tens of thousands. In that setting, Jesus saw “A poor widow” who “came and put in two small copper coins” (Mk 12:42). What she gave was next to nothing. It wasn’t enough to buy food for a single meal. It certainly wasn’t going to make or break the Temple treasury!

By comparison, Mark tells us that “Many rich people put in large sums” (Mk 12:41). We don’t know exactly what kind of container held the offerings, but apparently it was something that would have been very public. And since money in that day consisted of coins, it would have been obvious to all present that they had given a lot. But Jesus wasn’t impressed with their large gifts. He said it this way: they “have contributed out of their abundance” (Mk 12:44). They gave what was convenient to give. They gave what may have been “pocket change” to them. They gave what they wouldn’t miss. They made a show of being “religious,” but that’s all it was: it was just for show.

I think that what may be easy to miss was that this woman had obviously lost her place in society. She was a widow who was poor, which likely meant that she was alone in the world. She couldn’t afford nice clothes or a decent place to live. She couldn’t even afford to buy one meal! While she may have had some support from the Jewish system of charity, it was likely only “token” assistance. She was a non-person to all the prominent leaders who were at the Temple to “worship God,” essentially invisible. The contradiction between the show they were putting on and the true condition of their hearts couldn’t have been more obvious. But clearly, it was that very show that maintained their place in society, so the show went on.

In Mark’s Gospel, this episode is preceded by Jesus’ criticism of the Jewish religious leaders. He said they went to great lengths to look impressive with their beautiful robes and to be noticed for their “presence” in worship. But he knew that it was all for show (Mk.12:40). They wanted to make it look like they were spiritual. But the fact that their real agenda was about themselves was revealed by the indictment Jesus made. They were literally “devouring” the homes of widows like the woman who gave her last two coins. They were defrauding some of the most vulnerable people in their society. They were wrapped up in their own self-interest. Their lack of care for a poor widow who had lost her place in the community exposed their “show” of piety as a sham.

In contrast to the religious leaders and the prominent people in the community who were putting on a show simply to maintain their “place,” Jesus affirmed the faith of this woman, whom they chose not even to see. He said that while they “contributed out of their abundance,” she “put in everything she had, all she had to live on” (Mk. 12:44). What may not be obvious on the surface of things is that the Greek phrase translated “all she had to live on” could also be rendered “her whole life.” As hard as it may be to comprehend, it sounds like she gave the last two coins she had to her name!

I think it’s hard for most of us to grasp why she would do that. Perhaps it was because she had reached the end of her rope. She had had exhausted her resources, and she was offering herself entirely to God, trusting him to care for her needs. She had clearly lost her “place” in society. She was alone, she had no means of supporting herself, and it seems clear that the only one who even noticed her presence at the Temple on that day was Jesus. Everyone else was too busy keeping up appearances, keeping the “show” going that kept their “place” in society safe and secure.

But was there more to it than just an act of desperation? I’d like to think this was the final act of devotion in a lifetime of true devotion to God. Perhaps that’s why Jesus said her gift was more substantial than all the “large sums” the others gave. While they gave just for “show,” she gave from the heart. They were concerned with keeping their “place” in the community secure. But she was concerned with something much more important. She embodied the kind of attitude that Jesus was talking about last week: a commitment to loving God with all we are, all we have, and all we hope to be.

Those of us who are the “haves” in our society tend to believe that we “deserve” our place in the community, along with the safety and security that goes with it. And we still tend to assume that the “have nots” are in that place because they must have done something to deserve it. But the hard fact of life is that it’s not about “deserving.” Life happens to us all, “haves” and “have nots” alike, and life doesn’t care what we think we deserve. Our ultimate assurance is found in God, and in God alone. But if that really sinks in, and if we truly understand that God loves us more than we “deserve,” that God has given us far more than we “deserve,” then we have to respond to those who are without a place in our community with compassion. If we don’t, no amount of giving really amounts to anything. And everything else we do around here is nothing but a lot “noise” (1 Cor 13:1-3). It’s all just for show. What counts is caring for the people who have lost their place in this world and showing that our care is real by helping them. That’s what makes everything else we do in the name of Jesus real.

Tuesday, November 05, 2024

Stewards

Mark 12:28-34[1]

“Stewardship” is not a word we use much these days. When we do, it usually has something to do with money. Boards of foundations exercise “stewardship” with the money entrusted to them. That means they’re expected to be wise managers of those funds, both in terms of fulfilling the purpose of the organization and in terms of making sound decisions to ensure that the foundation continues to operate. We also talk about “stewardship” with reference to natural resources. For example, we expect the National Park Service to care for those public lands so that future generations may enjoy their beauty. Of course, the other arena in which we use the word “stewardship” is in the church. And to most of us, “stewardship” equals the church asking its members to donate money to support its ministry.

I would say that the biblical view of the Christian life views “stewardship” in a much broader way than that. The starting place for all of it is the conviction that all that we are and all that we have come to us as gifts from God. From our very existence, to our gifts and abilities, to the opportunities we’ve had to make use of those skills, it all falls under the category of “gift from God.” There’s no part of our lives that we can say “I did this myself.” Even our most individual achievements, when viewed from the biblical perspective, are made possible because of all that God has given us. Whether it’s the ability to make music, or shape students’ lives, or build a thriving business, or discover a new cure, or work for the health and wellbeing of others, it’s all a gift from God.

Beyond that, since God not only created us, but also gave us new life through Jesus Christ, from the biblical perspective, we “belong” to God. As the statement of faith put it earlier, we “belong” to him in that God has claimed us all as his children with his unconditional and unfailing love. More than that, Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection mean that we “belong” to God in that we have a hope and a future that comes from him and from him alone. Our very ability to get up in the morning and face a new day with the enthusiasm that comes from knowing that how we live and what we do in this world makes a difference, both now and eternally, is ours because God has given us new life through his son Jesus Christ.

All of that is necessary to understand our Gospel lesson for today. In this section of Mark’s Gospel, the religious leaders have been carrying on a debate with Jesus, hoping to make a fool out of him in front of the crowds who followed him. One of them asked him which of God’s commands was the “first,” or most important. It’s no coincidence that Jesus chose love for God and love for neighbor in reply. The “first” commandment came from the Shema, which was and still is the heart of the Jewish faith (Deut 6:4-5): “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one;you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength” (Mk 12:29-30). And the “second” commandment (Lev 19:18), “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” is part of a summary of God’s intentions for the way he wanted his people to live their lives in the book of Leviticus.

These two “great” commands reflect a fundamental framework of faith that runs throughout the whole Bible. God created all that is, including us, out of his love. And God is in the process of restoring all that is, including us, through what Jesus Christ did for us in his death and resurrection. When we miss the fact that all that we are and all that we have come to us from God’s love, both in creation and in salvation, we can make the mistake of thinking that “stewardship” relates only to what we may do at church. But from the biblical perspective God’s love claims our whole lives.

So it is that we who are fortunate enough to live our whole lives knowing that God loves us unconditionally and irrevocably are called to love God in return with all that we are. That’s one way to summarize “love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.” God desires more than just our money or a token amount of our time. God’s love claims our whole lives, our very selves, everything we are and everything we have.

I think it’s natural to wonder what that’s supposed look like in real life. Are we all meant to go live in a monastery or a convent, devoting all our waking hours to worshiping and serving God? Are we all called to dedicate ourselves to serve as ministers or missionaries? I’ve been trying to learn what this means all my life, and I must confess, I’m not sure any of us really has the answer. We can’t even love another person with everything we are and everything we have. Not to the extent that the Bible calls us to love God. How are we expected to love God in that way, given the fact that we all fall short?

I think the best way we have to figure this out is to look to Jesus. Jesus loved God with all his life. And from that love for God flowed a way of living defined by the second “great” commandment: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus demonstrated his love for God by treating all people with dignity, respect, fairness, compassion, and kindness, which is the practical definition of “loving your neighbor” (Lev 19:9-18, 33-36). We show our love for God when we follow his example and commit all that we are and all that we have to serving God’s purpose in this world.

I know that all sounds incredibly impractical, if not downright impossible. Who can live their whole life in service to God. There are bills to pay, and children to raise, and parents to care for, and homes to maintain. And more than that, we all have activities we do for “fun” to “re-create” the energy we need to take care of our responsibilities. How can we possibly devote more than an hour here or there on a Sunday morning or a Wednesday evening to God?

I believe it’s a matter of perspective. We can view everything we do—working at our jobs, raising our families, and more—as a way of living out our commitment to love God with all that we are and all that we have. What God wants from us, and what God has always wanted from those who love him, is nothing less than all our lives. That’s what stewardship means in the Bible. It means to love God with all our lives. It’s not primarily about money, it’s about our hearts. It’s not primarily about how we spend our time, it’s about making the choice again and again to turn the gift of God’s love into love for other people. When that perspective on all of life is the starting point for all that we do, then what we give, whether money or time or service, will flow naturally and joyfully from a heart that’s overwhelmed with gratitude for the love we’ve received.

Tuesday, October 22, 2024

Making a Difference

Hebrews 4:14-5:10[1]

I believe most of us want to make a difference in this world. As we’re growing up, we try to figure out a way to do that with our lives. We choose a career based on our interests. Whether our job takes us in a direction that we feel like we’re actually making a difference in others’ lives, I would say that we do so just by the way we show up and treat people. Even if our job isn’t one that seems to “make a real difference,” most of us get involved in other activities like sports leagues or community clubs so that we can give back to the people around us. I think one of the challenges we face is that we have a hard time recognizing all the ways we contribute to the lives of other people. It seems to be wired into who we are as human beings to want to make a difference.

The most fulfilling experiences of my life have come from the opportunities I’ve had to make a difference in someone’s life. That’s why I started down the path of ministry at the ripe old age of 17. That’s why I’ve worked all my life to learn all I can about the Bible, Theology, History, Philosophy, and life in general. And that’s what still keeps me going over 45 years later. What energizes me is making a difference in someone’s life. It may sound strange, but that’s why I find it fulfilling to be with those who are hurting. Especially at the end of a loved one’s life. Yes, those times can be challenging and hard, but those are the times when I feel like I’m truly making a difference.

Of course, not everyone is called to be a pastor. We need all kinds of people doing all kinds of things for the world to work. But I think we all want to make a difference. One problem with trying to make a difference, however, is that when we put ourselves out there to help others, we’re putting ourselves in a position to wind up getting hurt. We’re opening ourselves to criticism, some of which may not be so fair or kind or respectful. Those who have been in a position where you’ve put yourself out there to help other people know what I’m talking about. Any time we try to make a difference in the lives of people around us, we’re at risk of our motives or our actions (or both!) being misinterpreted or perhaps even misrepresented. The bottom line is that whenever we try to make a contribution to others, we are likely going to have to endure some kind of unfair or hurtful treatment.

I think this aspect of our lives relates to our scripture lesson from Hebrews for today. It talks about how Jesus made a difference for all of us by what he did. In giving his life for us on the cross, he shows us who God is: the one who’s willing to take all the suffering of the world into himself. More than that, what Jesus did shows us what God is doing in the world: God is in the process of restoring everyone and everything. By dying on the cross, Jesus was fulfilling God’s desire for the whole human family to be restored to him. And in so doing, our lesson says that he has become the source of “eternal salvation” for all who turn to him in “trusting-obedience” (Heb 5:8-9 MSG). All that sounds good to us. But the lesson also says something that may sound strange to our ears. It says, “Even though Jesus was God’s Son, he learned obedience from the things he suffered” (Heb 5:8, NLT) That sounds more than strange. It’s shocking: why would Jesus need to “learn obedience”? Wasn’t his whole life, in fact his whole existence, one of obedience to God? So why did he have to “learn obedience”?

I think the answer has to do with what happened when the Son of God became a human being. It’s not like he was inherently willful and disobedient and had to be taught by the consequences of his actions how to obey God. The very act of becoming a human being was an expression of his obedience to God. But I think what Jesus learned was a first-hand experience of what it means to live as a fully human person.[2] And part of what that means is that anyone who wants to make a difference in the lives of others is probably going to suffer criticism, or undergo attack, or perhaps even in his case give up his life. There have been many who sought to make a difference in this world who have given up their lives because of it. In his obedience to God, Jesus had to learn what human suffering is like. And the ultimate expression of his trust in God as well as his obedience to God was to give his life for us all on the cross.

While it’s not necessary to restrict what our Scripture lesson says about Jesus to this one event, it’s natural to think of Jesus praying in the garden of Gethsemane. I find it wonderfully reassuring that, when faced with one of the cruelest methods of executing a person ever devised, Jesus asked God to deliver him from it! It’s hard to imagine Jesus being truly human and not facing the cross with feelings of anguish and praying “with loud cries and tears” (Heb. 5:7). And yet, the end result of his prayer struggle in that garden was that he decided to go through all of it in order to fulfill God’s desire to make a real difference in all of our lives.

As I mentioned earlier, one of the lessons for us to take away here is that the process of God becoming flesh in Jesus of Nazareth is not just about showing us who God is, it’s also about showing us that God is working to restore us all. Throughout the ages many have wondered why God went to all that trouble. Why not just “say the word” and make everything right again? I think one answer to that question is that the only way to truly make a difference in human life is to take the risk of getting involved that person’s life. The only way to truly help anyone is to enter fully into their experience and pour into it the love that can change them. That’s what Jesus was doing on the cross. As one of our confessions of faith puts it, he went into the abyss of human suffering in order to redeem all of us who have been trapped there.[3] There’s no depth of suffering in human experience that Jesus did not reach. And the profound love he poured out for us all at the cross changes everything! By entering fully into our experience, Jesus truly made the difference for us all.

I think it’s part of our identity as human beings that we all want to make a difference. But making a difference will very likely cost us something, just as it cost Jesus. When we doubt whether Jesus makes a difference in our lives, I think we should remember the friends and loved ones who have made such a difference in our lives. While we may not be able to relate to Jesus as directly as we can to them, we can remember what he went through, and that he did it precisely to make a difference for us. It’s a bit like the way the friends and loved ones we’ve lost still make a difference in our lives today. And when we doubt whether we’re making a difference in anyone’s life, we should also remember the friends and loved ones we’ve lost and how much we miss them. No less than they did when they were with us, we all make a difference in the lives of others just by being who we are.

[2] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 1.2:158: “the New Testament has treated the vere homo [truly human] so seriously that it has portrayed the obedience of Jesus throughout as a genuine struggle to obey, as a seeking and finding.”

[3] The Study Catechism, 1998, q. 45.

Wednesday, October 16, 2024

High and Humble

Isaiah 57:15, Hebrew 4:12-16[1]

I’ve told you recently about some of my favorite Bible verses. Another one is Isaiah 57:15: “Our holy God lives forever in the highest heavens, and this is what he says: Though I live high above in the holy place, I am here to help those who are humble and depend only on me” (Isa 57:15, CEV). I love the way that verse combines two important aspects of who God is: God is both far beyond our ability to comprehend, and also as close to us as the very air we’re breathing right this minute. I like this verse because I’m not so sure we do a very good job holding those two essential concepts together. We’re comfortable with a God who “lives away up there,” but I’m not so sure we’re comfortable with a God who “walks beside me day by day.” At least I would suggest the way we live our lives indicates we’re happy to keep God at arm’s length, or perhaps more!

Think about it: we want a God who’s bigger than our problems. And we want a God who’s bigger than our problems to help when we ask. But we really prefer to live our own lives, thank you very much, when it comes to all the other aspects of life we think we can “handle.” I’m not sure we really want a God who gets involved with every aspect of our lives. If he does, it means we have to surrender every aspect of our lives to God. As much as we may say we want to do that, I have a sneaking suspicion that most of us prefer to stay in control. For some of us, I would say we might prefer that God would simply mind his own business and stay out of ours!

But that’s not the God of Abraham and Sarah, the God who brought the children of Isael out of slavery in Egypt and then again brought them home from exile in Babylon. It’s not the God who came to live among us in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, and who fed the hungry, embraced the outcasts, and got down and played with little children. Yes, God is the one who “lives forever in the highest heavens.” Yes, God is the one whose love for us and whose work on our behalf is infinitely beyond anything we can even dare to imagine (Eph 3:20). That also means that God is the one who is living and working in all our lives all the time. We may not even be able to dare to imagine what God is doing in and through us right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that the Bible insists God is indeed working in us, giving us “the desire and the power to do what pleases him” (Phil 2:13, NLT).[2]

That brings us to our Scripture lesson from Hebrews for today. We see a reflection of this belief that God is always at work in our lives in the statement that “the word of God is alive and powerful.” We may not always be aware of God’s living and powerful work in our lives because we’ve come up with so many ways to pay attention to anything but that. Again, I would say part of the reason why we prefer to distract ourselves from what God is be doing in our lives is because we’re really not all that comfortable having God that closely involved in our lives. If God’s word truly “exposes our innermost thoughts and desires” as our lesson says, we may want God to keep his distance. We may prefer a God who “lives away up there” because we really don’t want to get that close to the God who is more powerful than we can imagine and who works in our lives to accomplish his will, not ours!

But our scripture reading from Hebrews emphasizes that God’s powerful work in and through us right here and right now is not something we should fear. And that’s another lesson we learn from Jesus. Just as we believe that Jesus came in person to show us what God is truly like, so also we can trust in the image of God that Jesus shows us. Last week we saw that image reflected by playing with children. This week our lesson from Hebrews reminds us that, because he was willing to become like us and suffer for us, Jesus shows us the depth of God’s compassion and mercy. As our lesson puts it, Jesus “understands our weaknesses” because he “faced all of the same temptations as we do” (Heb 4:15, NLT).

While that statement is truly comforting, it’s also one that can be confusing. We have a hard time understanding how God can be both bigger than we can imagine and also intimately involved in every aspect of our lives. Our Scripture lesson today holds those two seemingly irreconcilable affirmations together by referring to God in terms of approaching “the throne of grace.” On the one hand, clearly God is depicted as one who exercises authority and power from a “throne.” The Bible consistently portrays God as the one who reigns over the entire created order. Not just what we can see, but all the galaxies that exist throughout the universe. God is the one who reigns over all the nations, and over each of our lives. God sits on a “throne” with authority and power.

And yet on the other hand, the Scripture lesson speaks of God’s throne as a “throne of grace.” The Bible reveals to us a God who empathizes with our struggles and sympathizes with our plight, a God who shares our pain and our suffering. The image of God revealed by Jesus Christ, the crucified savior, is one of compassion, and mercy. One aspect of our understanding that God became flesh in Jesus of Nazareth is that his experience of our full humanity reveals to us that God really and truly understands what we’re going through. It’s easy to think that God is so far “up there” that he really can’t identify with or understand what we have to go through in this life. But the lesson reminds us that Jesus “faced all of the same temptations as we do.” That means God cares deeply about us and empathizes with us so that God is intimately involved in every facet of our lives. For this reason, our Scripture lesson today invites us to turn in our time of need to the “throne of grace,” confident that when we do so we will find compassion and mercy.

That brings me back to the verse from Isaiah 57:15. In the version we heard earlier, the translation implies the fact that God is both exalted and compassionate are in tension with one another: “Though I live high above in the holy place, I am here to help those who are humble and depend only on me” (Isa 57:15, CEV). But I find it interesting that in the New Living Translation, those two aspects of God’s character aren’t in tension at all: “The high and lofty one who lives in eternity, the Holy One, says this: ‘I live in the high and holy place with those whose spirits are contrite and humble. I restore the crushed spirit of the humble and revive the courage of those with repentant heart’” (Isa 57:15, NLT). The “high and holy place” where God lives is precisely with “those whose spirits are contrite and humble,” precisely with us. God’s exalted power is displayed precisely in his willingness to humble himself in order to get involved in our lives, in every aspect of our lives.[3] And, of course, the ultimate purpose of God’s willingness to get involved in our lives to that extent is to transform us into the joyful and free people he created us to be, so that we might share his love with others and finally enjoy that love in his presence forever.

[2] Cf. Philippians 2:12-13 in The Message: “Be energetic in your life of salvation, reverent and sensitive before God. That energy is God’s energy, an energy deep within you, God himself willing and working at what will give him the most pleasure.”

[3] Cf. William C. Placher, Narratives of a Vulnerable God, 19: “God’s power is the power of love. … in freely loving, God is most of all who God is, most exemplifying the kind of power God has.” Cf. similarly Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 4.1:159: “In His high majesty He is humble. It is in this high humility that He speaks and acts as the God who reconciles the world to himself.

Tuesday, October 08, 2024

Stamped

Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-10; Mark 10:13-16[1]

When it comes to parenting, the debate about nature versus nurture is an old one. The question is whether children are “stamped” with their personality from birth or whether their personality is shaped by the nurture they receive from their families. I think it’s always been a combination, myself. I think children have their own identities from the start, and that parents can either enhance or short-circuit that identity. Of course, at the end of the day, everyone makes their own choices, including our children, and those choices also have a way of defining our life path as well as who we are and who our family is.

One of the aspects of “nature” in this discussion has to be family resemblances. It’s not hard to see the likeness between my oldest son Derek and me. My daughter Carolyn likes to say that he’s a “clone” of me. I like to say, not that he’s a “mini-me,” but rather he’s a bigger and better “me.” He is 6’2”! You can see that family resemblance, not just is appearance, but also in mannerisms, in my son, myself, my father, my grandfather, even going back to my great-great-grandfather! About 15 years ago I stumbled upon a genealogy site run by a guy in Omaha who had some ties to the Brehm family. He had a picture of my great-great grandparents that I’d never seen. But when I took a good look at my great-great grandfather’s eyes, I saw my own, and my son’s as well.

We also take on the image of those who are influential in our lives. Those who are our mentors, whether family or teachers or supervisors, tend to influence how conduct ourselves. Sometimes those mentors can be more influential than our families. One of my professors in Seminary asked me to work with him as a graduate assistant, and I did that for three years. I graded his papers, and I taught his classes when he was away. It should come as no surprise to you that the way I taught my classes as a professor looked a lot like the way he taught his classes.

Our Scripture reading from Hebrews for today talks about a “resemblance” that’s even stronger than that. It talks about the way in which Jesus shows us what God is like. The Scripture describes Jesus as “the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature” (Heb 1:3, NLT). The language used in the Greek text calls to mind the idea that Jesus is a ray of light from the very being of God. He’s the “radiance of the glory of God.” It also suggests that, like a coin is stamped in the image of the one who issues it, Jesus is “stamped” in the image of God. He’s the “exact imprint of God’s nature.”

What the author of the letter to the Hebrews is talking about is Jesus’ nature as the “Son” of God. And we cannot help but think about the notion of the “incarnation” of Jesus when we hear this language. In these days there are some who think themselves too sophisticated to buy into antiquated concepts like God being incarnate in a human being. But the doctrine of incarnation is not about the biology of where children come from. It’s an affirmation that Jesus really and truly does show us what God is like.[2] We can look at Jesus, his life, his teaching, his mercy, his justice, and we can be confident that we’re seeing a true likeness of God. Or as the author of the letter to the Hebrews puts it, Jesus is “the exact imprint of God’s very being.”

What kind of “image” of God do we see in Jesus? In the Gospels we see him embracing the ones nobody else would embrace. We see him confronting the religious people with the falseness of their self-righteousness. We see him forgiving sinners and restoring people to themselves and to their communities. We see him teaching people to follow the commandments by loving God whole-heartedly and loving others sincerely. And in today’s Gospel lesson we see Jesus welcoming little children.

Most of us are familiar with this story. We cherish it, but I think we also sterilize it a bit. Think about the children in your lives. They are energy personified. They have the capacity to laugh, cry, dance, and shout—all without any inhibitions whatsoever! As much as we love our children, however, we may have trouble fully seeing them as human beings. After all, what do children do? When they’re not sleeping or eating, they play. Many adults think that they’re too busy to waste precious time playing with children.

That’s why I think we sterilize this story. The typical “Sunday School” image is of calm, smiling, obedient children gathered around Jesus, admiring his presence, listening attentively and soaking in all that he has to say. But we know that most children aren’t like that. At least my grandchildren certainly aren’t! They’re fidgety, they’re impulsive; they can actually speak out of turn and interrupt what’s going on! I think if we’re going to do justice to this Gospel lesson, we should imagine Jesus interacting with real group of children—active, exuberant, noisy! What do you do with a group of children like that? You don’t try to make them “be still” so you can teach them a lesson. You jump right into the middle of the fray and play with them!

Does Jesus really show us what God is like by playing with children? Is something so seemingly mundane really an aspect of what it means that Jesus is “the exact imprint of God’s very being”? Surely it must be incidental, simply a part of the narrative “coloring” that keeps us interested in the really “important” stuff. But in our lesson for today Jesus says that children define the character of what it means to be a part of God’s kingdom, God’s saving reign, God’s new creation. I think he most definitely showed us who God is when he played with those children!

The author of the letter to the Hebrews insists over and over that Jesus shows us what God is like. He’s like a ray of light from God’s very being. He’s “stamped” with God’s image like a coin is stamped with the image of the one who made it. But because we’re also made in the image of God, as our lesson from the Psalms for today reminds us, then there’s a sense in which Jesus also shows us what we’re created to be. We’re not only “stamped” with certain character traits, habits, and quirks that we inherited from our families or learned from our mentors. We’re also “stamped” with the image of God. And as we follow Jesus more and more faithfully, we are more and more transformed into his image (2 Cor 3:18). As we learn to practice the ways of God’s kingdom, the ways of faith, hope, and love, the ways of peace, justice, and freedom, we become “stamped” with Jesus’ image ourselves. And the more we become like him, the more we reflect the image of our loving God to those around us.

[2] Jürgen Moltmann, The Trinity and the Kingdom, 114-118, says that the incarnation is part of the “eternally self-communicating love of God” that constitutes the “foundation of the new creation,” or the “perfecting of creation.”

Tuesday, October 01, 2024

(Not) Going It Alone

James 5:13-20[1]

We live in a world that values “going it alone.” The image of the “self-made” person has long been held up as the example to follow. We see it especially in a certain kind of entertainment that idealizes rugged individualism: the “lone” figure, strong and independent, who comes along and saves the day for the “ordinary people,” and then rides off into the sunset, a solitary hero. While that may be a formula for an entertaining movie, it doesn’t work that way in real life. Despite what traditional wisdom has taught us about the virtues of “self-reliance,” I would argue that for us to become whole as human beings we have to have both a strong sense of self and a healthy connection to a community.

In the New Testament, the family of faith actually played a more important role in the lives of believers than their biological families. Part of the reason for that was when they committed their lives to following Christ, they were effectively cutting themselves off from their families of origin. In that setting, living out Christian faith within a community was vital. It was the only way they could do it. In our day, we’re not normally cut off from our families because of our faith. Rather we live in a world where families are scattered across the continent, if not across the globe. When the people who make a place “home” for you move away, or you move away from them, you can easily find yourself feeling “apart,” or “on your own.” That makes the family of faith all the more important for many in our day as well. We may have different reasons for it, but the community of faith is still the primary context for living the Christian life.

I think that’s why James closed his letter with some unusual instructions about confession, forgiveness, anointing and healing. I think James knew a very important truth that too often gets swept aside in our highly mobile world. We need others to sustain our faith. Although there have been solitary individuals throughout the history of the faith, I would say they’ve been the exception rather than the rule. I think James knew that. I think he knew that, however strong our faith may be, we’re all subject to the same human failings. And when we fall short, we need someone to whom we can turn who will make the promise of forgiveness real for us. We need a community that embodies restoration and healing.

Ironically, in this world where we’re so isolated from one another, there are many who take a “go it alone” approach to spirituality. One reason for that is there’s a “gospel” out there that promises if you say the right words and go through a right motions, you get “saved”, you’re made whole and complete, instantaneously. Over the years I’ve come to see that as a kind of spiritual hocus-pocus. Or maybe religious quackery peddling snake oil. Of course, it’s theologically true that our forgiveness and healing were completely and finally accomplished through Jesus Christ long ago. But James knew that forgiveness and healing take a community. For it to really get into our hearts and souls and lives, it takes a community. Theoretical theology needs human flesh in order to translate into a real change of life. The only way any of us finds wholeness in this world is through community. Something about the way we’re put together as human beings makes it so that we just cannot grasp such high and holy truths unless someone is there to show us the grace and mercy and love of God in action. I believe that’s the only way we can truly become whole.

That’s where our Gospel lesson comes in. Mark reminds us that our commitment to care for even the “little ones” who believe in Jesus defines us as a community. We tend to assume that Jesus was talking about children when he referred to making the “little ones” stumble. But elsewhere he refers to the “least” of these “my brothers and sisters” who were hungry, alone, and in need of community as the place where they would encounter him: he said that what we do “for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine” we have done for him (Mt 25:40, CEB). And that was the place where he expected his followers to show up as well. With the least and the last and the left out; the outcasts, the sinners, and the shut out. They’re the “little ones” that are to be the object of our concern.

In the New Testament, Jesus and the Apostles envision the church as a community defined by forgiveness, unconditional love, and mercy. That kind of mercy is called “charity” in the King James Version. I think we can get confused about that, because “charity” means something different to us. The Latin caritas translates the Greek word agape, and both of them speak of self-giving love, unconditional love, merciful love. It’s the love that Jesus showed for us all, “righteous” and “sinners” alike. Charity in the sense of caritas isn’t something you do to get a break on your taxes. It’s a way of life that flows from the experience of the love and grace and mercy of God. It’s a matter of actually caring about other people, what happens to them, their quality of life, their hopes and their fears, their wellbeing.

That’s the kind of life we’re called to live as Christians. We’re called to live together in a community that forgives, that restores, and that “saves souls,” as our Scripture lesson from James makes clear (James 5:19-20). The version we read puts it this way, “whoever brings the sinner back from wandering will save that person from death” (Jas 5:20, NLT). But it could be translated more literally in terms of “saving” their “soul.” Scholars debate “who” is saving “whom” in this passage—the “restorer” or the one who is “restored.” But I think one of the most foundational truths of the community of faith is that we’re all “saved” together in the process of acting out the mercy of God toward one another and toward all people![2] It’s not an either/or, it's a both/and. As we extend God’s mercy and love to others, they experience restoration, but so do we.

We’re not called to “go it alone” as followers of Jesus. We’re called to live together in a community that shares with others, that blesses others, that cares for others—whoever, whatever, wherever, whenever. Until we get that part right with each other, nothing we try to do in “mission” will make much of a difference. But when we do get that part right, maybe we can breathe new life into those around us, and in the process breathe a little life into ourselves. We’re all saved, we’re all restored, we’re all made whole together. Especially in this challenging time, we need a community where we love and are loved if we’re going to thrive. Holding on to the faith that God is working to bring grace and peace and mercy and love and joy and new life to every life in the midst of all that’s going on right now doesn’t happen well when we try to go it alone. We can only hold firmly to our faith when we put it into practice together in a community.

[2] Cf. similarly Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 4.2:731: “There is no other faith than that ‘which worketh by love’” (alluding to Galatians 5:6).

Tuesday, September 24, 2024

Humble and Kind

James 3:13-4:10[1]

Most of you know that I’m a music fan. I grew up in the 1960’s listening to “Top 40” music on my transistor radio. As a teenager in the 1970’s, I “graduated” to a “stereo,” complete with huge speakers and arguments with my parents about whether the music was too loud. But besides classic rock, Chuck Mangione had come along and made listening to Jazz “cool” again for my generation, so I delved into that. My musical tastes have grown and expanded over the years, and throughout my journey, the people in my life influenced me. When I went off to college, my roommate was into what was then known as “soul” music. Later in my twenties, I also began exploring classical music, something my grandfather had encouraged. When my kids became teenagers, they were listening to a whole new style of music. I actually liked some of it, so I tried to keep up with the best of what was “new” in music. As you know my son Michael is a performing musician working with the Navy Band, and he’s usually cluing me into new Jazz artists. And these days, I’m taking some of my cues from my grandchildren! Perhaps I’m not alone in that.

If you were listening closely, you may have missed one genre of music. I didn’t listen to Country music early on, but I gradually added it to my musical repertoire over the years. One of my favorite songs is actually a Country song: “Humble and Kind,” by Tim McGraw. I first heard it in 2018 at Maxine Verhoeff’s funeral (true story), and I loved it, and I’ve listened to it regularly ever since. I love the simple truths it conveys, principles that I was taught from earliest childhood. Like “Hold the door, say please, say thank you, Don’t steal, don’t cheat, and don’t lie.” It reflects a way of life that’s simply “good.” “Don’t hold a grudge or a chip” because “Bitterness keeps you from flying” is wisdom we all need to hear. “When you get where you’re goin’, Don’t forget turn back around, Help the next one in line” reminds us that we actually do have a responsibility for how we treat other people.

The refrain of that song, “Always stay humble and kind,” could be a tag line for our scripture reading from James for today. That might seem strange at first. What James advocates is “being humble and wise in everything you do” (Jas 3:13, CEV). There were some in his community of faith who were speaking and acting in ways that were wreaking havoc. We should probably hear everything James says about “wisdom” in this passage with the echo of everything he has said about the power of words to do great damage, as we heard last week.[2] But at the end of the day, I would say that James saw a person’s speech as one of the most obvious displays of their character. And the gist of the “wisdom” James advocates is being “humble and kind.”

It may be challenging for us to make that connection. We associate “wisdom” with the book of Proverbs in the Bible. If you’ve ever read Proverbs, you know that it’s easy to get lost in all the details. But I would say that the “wisdom” that both Proverbs and James promote is about taking faith and making it real in your everyday living. That may not be your first impression after reading the book of Proverbs, because the way it’s organized can be confusing. That’s why I think most of us tend to ignore Proverbs. But if you read it with a note pad by your side and just jot down themes as you come to them, you’ll soon notice a pattern—wisdom is about trusting and honoring God. And there’s a great deal in there about staying humble and kind in the way you treat others.

We really shouldn’t be surprised that James sounds a lot like the book of Proverbs when he insists that we take our faith and make it real in everyday life. In this respect, James also sounds a lot like his brother, his Lord, and his Savior. In fact, I would say that the portion of Scripture the book of James most resembles besides Proverbs is the “Sermon on the Mount.” That’s because Jesus also valued the wisdom taught by the book of Proverbs. As James says in our lesson for today, it’s a kind of wisdom that “leads us to be pure, friendly, gentle, sensible, kind, helpful, genuine, and sincere” (Jas 3:17, CEV). I don’t think it’s an accident that wisdom and humility and kindness are all connected to one another. Practicing kindness takes humility. That doesn’t mean we make ourselves into doormats for other people to walk all over. Rather I think it points to a basic orientation toward life that enables us to treat other people with respect.

Unfortunately, that kind of respect and humility seems to be sorely lacking these days. In these days of dividing lines, bitterness and rage, and public shootings, at the very least we see ourselves as better than those “on the other side.” At the worst, we see “them” as enemies. James warns us about that in our lesson as well: he says, “Whenever people are jealous or selfish, they cause trouble and do all sorts of cruel things” (Jas 3:16, CEV). I like Gene Peterson’s translation: “Whenever you’re trying to look better than others or get the better of others, things fall apart and everyone ends up at the others’ throats” (Jas. 3:16, The Message)! The opposite of living by the wisdom of “always stay humble and kind” is an arrogance leads to things falling apart and has everyone at each other’s throats!

That kind of prideful arrogance is never good for anyone. Later in our lesson for today, James quotes from Proverbs: “God opposes everyone who is proud, but he blesses all who are humble with undeserved grace” (Jas 4:6 CEV). The language of the original verse in Proverbs is even stronger: “The Lord mocks the mockers but is gracious to the humble” (Prov 3:34, NLT). That brings us back to the importance of humility as a foundation for life. Practicing kindness means we have to give something of ourselves to others. We can’t do that if we’re stuck in pride or arrogance. Arrogance is a essentially mindset that withholds basic respect from people we think are “beneath” us. Only through humility can we see others as people whom God loves as much as he loves us. And only when we can see them in that way can we give them the gift of kindness.

“Always stay humble and kind.” I don’t know whether Tim McGraw tries to live that way in real life.[3] But I love the sentiment of the song. I think the life of simple goodness it portrays lines up with our Scripture lesson from James for today. We can only be kind if we’re humble enough to treat people with respect and courtesy. To do that, we have to recognize that we fall short just as much as anyone else. We have to let go of the need to “win,” whether that means being right or getting our own way or seeing ourselves as better than others. Only when we practice this kind of humility can we respect other people enough to give them the kindness that has defined godly wisdom from the very beginning.

[2] Cf. Robert W. Wall, Community of the Wise, 186: “James’s description of false wisdom continues in accordance with the moral calculus that bad ideas are embodied in antisocial actions: garbage in, garbage out. If the words of an unwise teacher, who lacks understanding of the word of God, are fueled and formed by ‘jealousy and rivalry,’ then ‘chaos and every vile practice’ will surely result among those who follow his [sic] lead.” By contrast (ibid., 190), “Words that are ‘full of mercy’ are consistent with the merciful God; they are words of a tamed tongue which have the power to edify and guide a congregation to wholeness.”

[3] The author of the lyrics, Lori McKenna, who won a Grammy Award in 2017 for Best Country Song for “Humble and Kind,” recounts that she wrote it for her children as a way of reminding them of all the things she and her husband wanted them to remember. See the interview with her by Dave Paulson in The Nashville Tennessean, “Story Behind the Song: Tim McGraw’s ‘Humble and Kind’”, Jan 25, 2024, accessed at https://www.tennessean.com/story/entertainment/music/story-behind-the-song/2021/01/25/story-behind-song-tim-mcgraws-humble-and-kind/4228236001/ .

The Waking Dreamer