Laying it All Down

Lay It All Down

Mark 8:34-35[1]

We all have burdens we carry through our lives. All of us have obligations that we have to meet, responsibilities to attend to, tasks that we need to look after. That’s just a normal part of life. But many of us have other burdens we carry as well. We may carry the burden of expectations that were placed on us at a young age. Those expectations may have taken the form of a “script” or a “plan” for our lives that our loved ones hoped, or perhaps even demanded, that we fulfill. They may have seen us as the ones to carry on the family legacy, and they may have had very specific ideas about what that should look like. We may carry other burdens, like the shame or guilt for mistakes we’ve made for which we just can’t seem to forgive ourselves. We may carry the burden of thinking “if they really knew me, they wouldn’t accept me.” I think that one is more common than we may know.

We have other burdens that we carry as well. We enter our lives with our own hopes and dreams about the path life will take and what life will or will not bring our way. Those of us who have been around the block more than a few times know that life has a way of frustrating our “plans.” Rather than a straight line from beginning to end, the course of our lives usually includes all kinds of detours, missed turns, wrong turns, backtracking, and just plain getting stuck. That can be a problem for us if we’re desperately clinging to our plans. More than that, when life takes us down roads we never dreamed of, or perhaps we could only imagine in our worst nightmares, if we cling to our plans as if that’s the way our lives “have” to unfold, we will likely find ourselves discouraged and perhaps even embittered. When we close ourselves to the possibility that good things may come from paths we didn’t expect, our hopes and dreams can become shackles that bind us.

This may seem like a strange way to introduce our Gospel lesson for today. After all, in our lesson today Jesus not only announces that his path of obedience to God would lead him to die on a cross. He also tells all who would follow him that they must “deny themselves and take up their cross” (Mk 8:34). Just as we discussed with Jesus’ call to repentance last week, I’m not sure we even understand what Jesus is asking of us when he calls us to follow him. In our culture, “being a Christian” can simply be part of our identity as Americans. Some of us view faith as a means of getting all that we want out of our lives: comfort, happiness, status, and security. In a setting where people “select” churches like they are picking out a new car, and where they selectively participate only to get what they want out of it, I seriously doubt that we can even hear what Jesus is saying when he calls us to “deny ourselves and take up our cross.”

Our problem starts with “denying ourselves.” That call goes completely against the dominant message of our culture. In our consumer-driven culture, we’re told we “deserve” the best, and that we “owe it to ourselves” to make sure we get it. That’s pretty much the basic message behind the whole advertising industry, from Superbowl ads to local business appeals on the evening news. The basic premise is that “you’re worth it,” so you “deserve” to “treat yourself” with everything you want. And we’ve made it easy for you to get it—no payments until 2030! So when Jesus calls us to “deny ourselves,” it just doesn’t compute. As a child of this culture, I must confess I’ve wrestled with how to communicate what this means to us. The best answer I can come up with is that Jesus calls us to let go of our own aspirations, our own hopes and dreams for our lives, or even the very notion that life is “supposed” to bring us all that we could want or ask for. More than that, I think Jesus is calling us to lay down our preoccupation with our own welfare, to let go of the basic orientation that makes ourselves the focus of our lives.

Now, I’m aware that this is difficult for us to even hear, let alone comprehend or actually embrace as a way of living. It just seems wrong not to make “self” the center of our lives. But I wonder if in fact Jesus may be onto something that eludes us. I wonder if perhaps our very preoccupation with “self” isn’t one of those things we cling to that become shackles that burden us. Think about it; we like to hear Jesus calling us to “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Mt 11:28-30). That invitation sounds a lot more appealing than the one in our lesson from the Gospel of Mark for today to “deny yourself and take up your cross.”

But I wonder whether they may be more alike than we think. Jesus goes on to say in our lesson for today that “those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it” (Mk 8:35). I’m not sure Jesus would say it this way, but in our day and time I think “losing your life” can mean laying down the burdens we carry when we box ourselves into the trap of making “me, myself, and mine” the center of our universe. When we get trapped in the prison of our own interests, our own wants, or what “I” deserve, it becomes a place that robs us of the very life we’re clinging to so desperately. I think what Jesus was trying to say is that in fact the only way “save your life,” the only way to truly live, is to give yourself away for the sake of others. I think he may be calling us to lay down all the things we cling to so tightly in that small place of “I” and open ourselves to the people around us in compassion, understanding, and love. Of course, there is a balance to be struck here between a healthy sense of self and giving ourselves away for others. We can go too far in both directions.

Giving ourselves away for the sake of others brings us to the part about “taking up your cross.” Again, I’m not sure we can hear how shocking that must have been to Jesus’ disciples at that time. They had seen many of their people brutally executed on crosses. In their ears, “take up your cross” must have been even more difficult for them to hear than “denying yourself” is for us. It might have been like calling us to “take up your hangman’s noose.” But he was pointing them to his own example. He had just told them that his path of obedience to God was going to lead him to his death. And he proceeded to call them to follow him on that path. And, in fact, there have been many who have followed Jesus to the point of giving up their lives.

Most of us don’t live in a situation where we literally have to give up our lives to follow Jesus. But I think we can still learn something about what it means to “take up our cross.” On the cross, Jesus set the prime example of what it means to love others enough to lay down your life for them (cf. Jn 15:13). It’s not likely we’ll be called on to do that by literally dying. But laying down our own interests, our own wants, our own hopes and dreams for the sake of others is a path that we can all take. Just as with repentance, “denying yourself and taking up your cross” is not easy. I don’t think it’s a way of living that comes easily to any of us. In fact, I would say that it will take us a lifetime to learn what it means to truly lay down your “life” and give yourself away for the sake of others. And even then we won’t have it all down.

As we continue observing the season of Lent, I hope we realize that the kind of sacrifice Jesus calls us to make for the sake of our faith has nothing to do giving up meat or chocolate for 6 weeks. If we would follow Jesus on the path to the cross during this time, he’s going to call us to go far beyond that. He’s going to call us to lay down our very lives for the sake of others. But the “good news” in this seemingly demanding call is that it is precisely as we “lay down” our lives that we truly find life. As we let go all our expectations and plans, as we let go all our hopes and dreams, we may discover that they were the very things keeping us from the life we were looking for. As we lay it all down and follow Jesus on the path of giving ourselves away for the sake of others, we truly “find” our lives.

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[1] ©2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 2/25/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

(Re)Turning

 (Re)Turning

Psalm 25; Mark 1:15[1]

The language of “sin” and “repentance” doesn’t get much traction in our world these days. For quite some time now, we’ve been much more concerned about enhancing self-esteem than confessing that we’ve done wrong. Even, and especially among those of us in the church, there are many who bristle at the notion of gathering every Sunday and praying a prayer of confession together. There are those who not only reject the language of sin, they also object to any kind of admission that they are fallen, or broken, or less than whole just as they are. It would be nice if that were true, but if we’re honest with ourselves and with each other, we have to admit that we all fall short. And we do it far more often than we’d probably like to admit even to ourselves. Confessing our sins together week after week may not be the most comfortable part of our worship, but it is necessary.

To some extent, I understand what motivates those who object to the language of sin. Over the centuries, church leaders have used that language like a club to beat people over the head. They’ve used guilt to manipulate and control people. Especially in traditions a particular leader is the only one “authorized” to “dispense” forgiveness. And I understand the importance of maintaining a healthy sense of self-esteem. The fact that we have sinned makes us human, not worthless or shameful. Unfortunately, the language of our worship has at times created that impression. Even some of our beloved hymns have lyrics that can undermine a healthy sense of self-worth when taken to extreme. Phrases like “a wretch like me,” or “such a worm as I” don’t exactly resonate with a healthy self image. Even acknowledging our unworthiness can communicate to some people that they are “worthless.”

I would insist that we don’t have to abandon our sense of self-worth altogether to recognize and admit that we all fall short. In fact, I would suggest that part of a truly healthy sense of self-worth includes admitting that we all have room for improvement. Our lives are a journey, and in part that means we never stop growing. But in order to grow, we have to be willing to admit that there are areas of our lives that we could change. Again, the fact that we all fall short, that we all have room for improvement, that there are areas in our lives where we could change and grow, means that we are human, not shameful or worthless. It also means we acknowledge that, for all our efforts at following Jesus, none of us follows him perfectly. And we never will until we’re standing face-to-face with him and his love has made us completely whole.

In our Gospel lesson for today, Mark tells us that Jesus’ message was “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news” (Mk. 1:15). Or as the version we read today puts it, “Now is the time! Here comes God’s kingdom! Change your hearts and lives, and trust this good news!” I think we’re familiar with the “good news” of the “kingdom of God.” I’m not so sure that the language of repentance connects with us these days. It’s just not a word that we use in everyday life outside the church. I would imagine there are many in our day who might not even know what “repentance” means. One of the ways for understanding passages that have language that is unfamiliar or difficult I recommend to people studying the Bible is to compare different translations. I personally use the Bible Gateway website, because it makes it easy to compare many English translations at once.

When you compare translations of this verse, you find an interesting interchange in a couple of the translations we use on a regular basis. One is the Good News Translation, or “Today’s English Version,” first published in 1966. It translates the word “repent” in our Gospel lesson as “Turn away from your sins.” The other is the Contemporary English Version, first published in 1991. It translates the word “repent” as “Turn back to God.” What makes that interesting to me is that both of them were published by the American Bible Society. While the second translation wasn’t meant to be a “revision” of the first, there is a sense in which the Contemporary English Version was meant to be the successor to the original “Today’s English Version” or the Good News Bible. I think that makes it even more interesting that one translates “repent” as “Turn away from your sins,” while the other translates it as “Turn back to God.”

I point this out because I would say that based on my study of the Bible, I think they’re both right. Calls to “repent” in the Bible are meant to call people to turn away from their sins. At the same time, they are meant to call people to turn back to God. “Repentance” includes both movements: turning away from that which is harmful to us and to others, and returning to God, who is the sole source of life that is full and free. But that can be hard for us to do. We have to acknowledge that something we’ve done is “sin” in order to “turn away” from it. And we have to acknowledge that in choosing to sin we have turned away from God in order to return to him. It can be humbling to make either of those confessions, even to ourselves.

Again, I would say that humility can be a part of a truly healthy sense of self-worth, as long as it doesn’t turn into shame. I think that’s part of what our lesson from the Psalms is about. It’s a prayer of humility, recognizing that we all need help in order to truly follow God’s ways in our daily living. And that’s what the Psalm promises: God’s help. Our lesson says it this way, “The LORD is good and does what is right; he shows the proper path to those who go astray. He leads the humble in doing right, teaching them his way” (Ps 25:8-9, NLT). Notice, it doesn’t say that God shows the proper way to those who are already in the right, but rather to those who go astray! As a person who is fallen and flawed and who “goes astray” more often that I’d like to admit, I find that to be a great comfort! The promise of Scripture is that God shows us all the “proper way” and leads us in what is right.

The language of sin and repentance in the Bible isn’t meant to shame us or to beat us down with the notion that we’re worthless. It’s meant to inspire us to “change our hearts and lives.” That’s the way the Common English Bible, the version we used for our Gospel lesson today, puts it: “Change your hearts and lives.” This is no easy task. Sometimes we have to “hit bottom” before we’re even willing to admit that we need to change. Making changes in our lives means recognizing that we fall short. It means taking responsibility for what we have done as well as what we’ve failed to do. It means, as the Psalmist says, admitting that we need help to follow God’s ways in our daily living. It reminds me of what Jesus said in the Beatitudes: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God” (Matt. 5:3). I like the way the Message translation puts it: “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.” Being willing to confess our sins and repent, both in the sense of turning away from what harms us and others, and in the sense of returning to God, isn’t about thinking of ourselves as worthless or shameful. It’s simply about being humble enough to recognize that we need God’s help. And the promise of Scripture, is that to those who are humble enough to acknowledge we need help, God provides it time after time after time.

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[1] ©2024 Alan Brehm.  A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 2/18/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Glimpses

 Glimpses

2 Corinthians 3:16-4:7[1]

Our world is not one that makes it easy for us to hold on to our Christian faith. The message that the life, death, resurrection, ascension, and reign of Jesus points us to a way of living that promises us true life is only one among many messages out there competing for our attention. If you want to be seen as a person of worth and value in our world, you need youth, beauty, talent, wealth, or power. Or as many of them as you can get. Youth and beauty mean people notice you. Age and the signs of aging mean people overlook you. Talent means you count, in some cases to the tune of millions of dollars, in some cases to the tune of tens of millions. Wealth and power go hand in hand in our world. Those with enough wealth have the power to get their way, whether it’s right or not. It can be hard to see how Jesus Christ makes much of a difference in a world like that.

Part of the problem stems from the various media sources in our world. These sources are means of communication that have given us ready access to information and have made it possible for us to stay more connected to one another than ever before. And that’s a good thing. But they also have the power to shape our perception of the world in ways that can distort the truth. Every “report” is an interpretation from a particular point of view. And any media source that doesn’t recognize their own point of view is likely intentionally distorting the truth for their own purposes. What counts these days is being the first to “break” a story, not making the effort to ensure that you got the story right. Or that the way you presented it was fair. And we’ve faced this distortion of reality for so long that many people would be hard-pressed to explain why they view the world the way they do. It’s just what they heard from their favorite media source.

Amid the competing versions of “truth” that are out there, what matters isn’t whether you have done your due diligence to fact-check what you say. Rather, what matters is how well you “spin” your story so that it’s convincing. I find myself speechless at times over what we as a people believe to be “true,” and the flimsy basis upon which we believe it. And I’m dumbfounded that in a country that still to a large degree considers itself “Christian” we follow people and embrace ideas that blatantly contradict everything Jesus stands for. But then, perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised when what really counts for us is the size of your home or your bank account, or whether you get to drive the latest and greatest car and sport the finest in fashion. When our values are measured by what we have instead of who we are, we have truly lost our way.

All of this brings us back to how important it is for us as those who profess Christian faith to make the message about the life, death, resurrection, ascension, and reign of Jesus Christ the one that truly defines our lives. This brings us to our lesson from 2 Corinthians for today. St. Paul himself had lived his life based on a message that was very different from the one that Jesus taught. His view of the world was one that had been defined by the distinction between those who are “righteous” and those who are “sinners.” And that distinction was based on things like your ethnic background, your loyalty to the “right” people, or even by the foods you ate. It was something that could be measured, and anyone who didn’t “measure up” was a sinner. Like most people in that kind of system, it was always the “others” who didn’t “measure up.”

St. Paul was so committed to that view of the world that he considered Jesus a blasphemer because he offered God’s love and grace and mercy to everyone regardless of whether they “measured up” or not. And he considered all those who followed him and spread his teachings not only to be a threat to his way of life but also as “enemies” of God. And so it was that he set out for the ancient city of Damascus with authorization to arrest and even kill any Christians he found there. But St. Paul met someone he didn’t expect on the road to Damascus: he met the risen Lord Jesus himself! And in the face of the Jesus, he saw something he also didn’t expect. He saw “the glory of God.” As St. Paul says in our lesson for today, “For God, who said, ‘Let there be light in the darkness,’ has made this light shine in our hearts so we could know the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor 4:6, NLT). I think he was referring to the “light” that he saw in the face of Jesus on the road to Damascus!

It was that encounter that changed St. Paul from a man who was “breathing out murderous threats” (Acts 9:1, NIV) against the followers of Jesus into a man who completely changed his life to follow Jesus himself. Because of what he saw in the face of Jesus, because he could say that God had made that light “shine” in his heart, St. Paul changed his life from being a man who believed he could and should measure everyone else by his own life into a man who recognized that he could never truly “measure up,” and nor could anyone else. And his life would never be the same. He gave up a life in which he was considered one of the ones to “watch” as an up-and-coming leader to one who was seen as a “fool for Christ” and the “scum of the earth” (1 Cor 4:10, 13). He walked away from everything he had valued in order to follow Jesus.

But more than what he gave up, St. Paul tells us in this passage what he gained by that dramatic change. What he gained was nothing less than the life and the love and the power of God at work in him. In our lesson for today he says it this way: “as the Spirit of the Lord works within us, we become more and more like him and reflect his glory even more” (2 Cor. 3:18, NLT). But reflecting the glory of the risen Lord Jesus Christ is a very different thing from the glory of this world. The glory of this world is based on how much you have. But the glory of Christ is based on how much you’re willing to sacrifice. The glory of this world is based on how well you look to your friends and others. But the glory of Christ is based on how well you serve the least, the last, and the left out among us. The glory of this world is based on how much power you have to get your way. But the glory of Christ is based on how consistent you are about treating all people with kindness and respect, especially the most vulnerable among us.

A life that’s based on following Jesus is one that looks very different from one that’s based on the values of this world. Sometimes it can seem like the values of this world have so much more appeal, so much more impact than the values of our Christian faith. But I choose to believe that what God is doing in our world through Jesus Christ is ultimately more powerful. To believe that, we have to “hope for more than we have yet seen,” as one of our confessions of faith puts it. It’s a matter of believing that in Jesus, especially in his resurrection from death to new life and in his reign in our lives through the power of love, we see a glimpse of the work that God “will surely finish” one day. More than that, as we embody the way Jesus lived in our own lives, we reflect the glory of Christ still to this day. We become living “glimpses” of the one who died for all people, who was raised to life to defeat the power of death, and who reigns over all the powers of this world.

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[1] ©2024 Alan Brehm.  A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 2/11/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Have You Not Heard?

 Have You Not Heard?

Isaiah 40:18-31; Mark 1:29-39[1]

Everybody wrestles with faith at some time or other. That’s because, as much as we like to present our lives as “picture perfect,” nobody actually has an “ideal” life. Pretty much everyone is dealing with some kind of problem. It just seems to be the nature of life. Just as soon as you get one thing nailed down, two more come loose. And it’s also the nature of the Christian life. As one of my college professors put it, everyone you meet is either heading into a time when their faith will be tested, or is in the midst of a time of testing, or is coming out of a time of testing. When we go through hard times, it’s easy for us to wonder what went wrong. We think a life that’s free of troubles should be “normal” for a Christian. But the fact of the matter is that we follow a Savior and Lord who suffered, and who called us to follow him in that path. So we should expect the troubles in our life as “normal.”

Part of the problem is that when hard times come, we tend to think that God is punishing us. It’s actually a line of thinking that starts with the Bible. Especially the book of Deuteronomy. The idea there is that when we do what we’re supposed to do, God blesses us. When we do what we’re not supposed to do, God punishes us. But the problem with that line of thinking is that there are a lot of people out there whose lives seem to be “blessed” who aren’t making any effort to do what’s right. And there are also a lot of people out there who are making every effort to do what’s right whose lives nevertheless are filled with hardship. In the language of the Psalms, the fact that the “wicked” so often “prosper” while the “righteous” suffer makes it plain that the line of thinking that equates hardships with punishment just doesn’t work.

Sometimes we may take this all the way to questioning whether God really is as good and loving as we’ve been taught to believe. In fact, this is a question that people have been asking for centuries, going back to ancient times. One of the Psalmists asks God if he has forgotten to be loving (Ps. 77:8-9), essentially asking if God has forgotten who he is! Another Psalmist asks God if he has fallen asleep instead of coming to help his people in their time of need (Ps. 44:23), again asking if God has somehow gotten too tired to make good on his promises. Those are some pretty bold questions. Not everyone goes through tragedies painful enough to bring us to question God to that extent. But there are many of us who have and still do, and I think it’s important for us to recognize that if psalm-singers and prophets could ask these questions in the Bible, it’s okay for us to have and to give voice to our questions. If Jesus could cry out to God “why have you forsaken me” from the cross, we can ask our questions too. God’s big enough to handle it, and he understands.

From the point of view of some Philosophers and Theologians, the presence of so much unjust suffering, or “evil,” in the world means that God cannot be both loving and all-powerful at the same time. If God is loving, he must not be all-powerful, because a loving God “would” prevent the tragedies that come upon the most innocent and vulnerable people. From this point of view, God is like a beloved grandparent who is simply powerless to protect us.[2] On the other hand, if God is all-powerful, he must not be loving, because being all-powerful means God can stop the terrible things that happen in life but chooses not to. From this point of view, God isn’t even a good father, because no parent would neglect a child in need![3]

As much as I understand why some people ask these questions (and why I’ve asked them myself!), the problem with posing the alternatives so starkly is that it presupposes that God’s ways are our ways. But the Bible bears witness again and again that God’s ways are as much higher than our ways as the heavens are higher than the earth (Isa 55:9). We know a lot more about how “high” the heavens are in our day than they did then. Generally speaking, science tells us that the universe is infinite! And so our lesson from Psalm 147 today says, “there is no limit to [God’s] understanding” (Ps 147:5, NIrV). That’s one way of dealing with the painful experiences of our lives: we may not understand what’s happening, but none of it escapes God’s notice, nor his wisdom, power, and love!

That’s the point of our lesson from Isaiah for today. The people of Israel languished far from home for a lifetime. In that land so far from everything they had known, they  wondered whether God even noticed that they were suffering, or whether God even cared. And the prophet speaking in the name of the Lord reminds them who God is: “The LORD is the everlasting God; he created all the world. He never grows tired or weary” (Isa 40:28, GNT). God always knows what we’re going through in this life, and God always cares. That doesn’t mean things will always turn out the way we want or hope. But what it means is that “those who trust in the LORD for help will find their strength renewed. They will rise on wings like eagles; they will run and not get weary; they will walk and not grow weak” (Isa 40:31, GNT).

It’s something our lesson from the Gospel of Mark for today demonstrates. Although Jesus knew his task was not primarily to work miracles, but to proclaim the good news that he had come to bring the kingdom of God, wherever he was faced with suffering he met human pain with compassion. He was never too preoccupied with his sense of calling to comfort those who were suffering. And when he followed that calling all the way to the point of giving up his life on the cross, he showed us all once and for all that God shares our burdens. Although Jesus cried out in agony, and it seemed as if the only reply God made was silence, what our faith teaches us is that in Jesus God was right there, taking all of our suffering upon himself.[4] Just as Jesus didn’t abandon those who came to him in need, so also God didn’t abandon Jesus on the cross. And God will never abandon anyone in this world, especially in the midst of their suffering.

When I’m going through hard times, and I’m having a hard time believing that God notices or cares about what I’m going through, I know that it’s usually because I’m stuck in fear or pain or sadness. I think when we get stuck in those feelings, we lose our sense of perspective on our lives. We may even lose our faith for a time. That’s precisely when we need to remember the lessons those who wrestled with these questions in the Bible learned. While my understanding is most definitely limited, there is no limit to God’s understanding. We may not understand what’s going on, but none of what’s happening in our lives escapes God’s notice, nor his wisdom, power, and love. Just as Jesus never abandoned those who came to him in need, and just as God didn’t abandon Jesus on the cross, so God never abandons us, especially in hard times. God is always there for us; when we think God is silent, perhaps it’s because God is weeping right along with us. As our affirmation of faith reminds us today, God watches over us each day of our lives. It’s what we’ve heard from the very beginning. God always knows what we’re going through in this life, and God always cares.

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[1] © 2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 2/4/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] This was the view of Rabbi Harold Kushner in When Bad Things Happen to Good People. His views were likely influenced by the death of his son from cancer at an early age.

[3] This is the view of Sam Harris: “God visits suffering on innocent people on a scope and scale that would embarrass the most ambitious psychopath” (post on Twitter dated Aug. 5, 2015).

[4] Cf. Helmut Thielicke, The Silence of God, 14: “Even when He was silent, God suffered with us.” Cf. also ibid., 13: When we don’t understand what’s happening, perhaps God “is fitting stone to stone in His plan for the world and our lives, even though we can see only a confused and meaningless jumble of stones.”