Making a Difference

 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.

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[1] © 2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 10/20/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[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.

High and Humble

 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.

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[1] © 2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 10/13/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[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.

Stamped

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.

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[1] © 2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 10/6/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[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.”

(Not) Going It Alone

 (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.

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[1] © 2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 9/29/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman NE.

[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).