Embodying the Light in Community
Isaiah 2:1-5[1]
Most of you know that I am primarily a Bible teacher and
preacher. I’m not much of a storyteller. I’m also not much for telling jokes in
the pulpit. There are others who have those gifts. Mine is that I’ve spent a
lifetime studying the Bible. And I try to share as clearly as I can the
insights I’ve gained over the years. I know that when I’m in my “Bible
preacher” mode I can come across as intimidating. When I was a seminary
professor, I was always amazed when students told me that some of their peers
were intimidated by me. I know what I know, and I’m not shy about speaking out
about it. But I also care more deeply about people than about being “right”
about anything. I think that’s why I am always surprised to learn that some
people may find my preaching intimidating.
I think one of the most important things I would want to
share about the insights I’ve gained over the years is that much of it did not
originate with me. Yes, I have read through the New Testament in the original
Greek text. And that gave me access to some insights that I gained on my own.
But so much of what I “know” I learned from those who have served the body of
Christ before me. Bible scholars, theologians, professors, pastors, and friends
have shared their insights with me, and they’ve left deep impressions. Over the
years, their contributions have become so much a part of who I am that I can no
longer sort out what came from where. Not precisely. But there are some people who
have influenced me deeply. If you haven’t heard me say it before, while I’ve
studied and studied with world-class scholars, it was my younger brother,
Douglas, with his various disabilities, who shaped me perhaps most deeply.
I’ve mentioned before that one of my favorite authors who shaped
me is Henri Nouwen. He was a professor at some of the most prestigious
theological schools in this country. He pioneered in the study and teaching of
pastoral care. And after spending a year’s sabbatical at a community in France where
mentally disabled people and their caregivers lived together, he walked away
from the academic world to serve as the chaplain at a similar community in
Toronto. I’ve learned a great deal over the years from reading Nouwen’s books.
I’m still learning some of the lessons his insights have to teach me. I think I
might be learning some of those lessons all my life, truth be told.
I bring him up because I’m going to do something different
this year for Advent. I’m going to ask Henri Nouwen to be our guide through
Advent. Each week I’m going to share my reflections on the four themes of
Advent—hope, peace, joy, and love—based on a quote from Nouwen. And not
surprising to me, one of the themes that these quotes will continually
emphasize is community. Nouwen was keenly aware that we practice our faith, we
continually learn what it means to follow Jesus, we keep discovering new ways
for our faith to make us more like Christ in our daily lives precisely as we
live together in community with one another.
This week, the focus of our Advent expectation is hope.
Hope can be the essential cord that holds everything together. Yet it’s like
silk, which can at times be strong, and at times can be fragile. I don’t know
about you, but lately my hope has been feeling somewhat weak, as if the very
fabric has come unraveled to some extent. That’s a scary feeling, for anybody.
As I mentioned in my sermon a couple of weeks ago, St. Paul teaches us that
when we endure hardship, it reinforces hope. But as I shared, in my experience many
times it is our hope that helps us to endure. When our hope seems to give way, however,
we may be left feeling like we’re falling into an abyss of fear.
The quote I want to share with you from Henri Nouwen is
this: “Christian community is the place where we keep the flame of hope alive
among us and take it seriously so that it can grow and become stronger in us.
In this way we can live with courage, trusting that there is a spiritual power
in us when we are together that allows us to live in this world without
surrendering to the powerful forces constantly seducing us toward despair. That
is how we dare to say that God is a God of love even when we see hatred all
around us. That is why we can claim that God is a God of life even when we see
death and destruction and agony all around us. We say it together. We affirm it
in each other. Waiting together, nurturing what has already begun, expecting
its fulfillment—that is the meaning of marriage, friendship, community, and the
Christian life.”[2]
Nouwen reminds us that we keep “the flame of hope alive” in
community in all its forms, and especially in this community. We keep
the flame of hope alive in our hearts and in each others’ hearts as we make the
journey together in community with one another, committed to walking this path
together as the body of Christ, committed to helping each other complete the
journey, especially when we may grow weak or stumble and fall. It is only as we
encourage each other along the way that we can keep trusting the promises of
our faith. Think about the ones we heard from the Scripture lesson from Isaiah
for today. When in the history of this world has any nation beaten “their
swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks” (Isa 2:4, NIV)?
When in the story of the human family has any nation given up warfare and
stopped treating those who are “other” or “different” as enemies? It hasn’t
happened! Instead, as Nouwen says, what we see are “death and destruction,” and
we see that “all around us.” It can at times take the very life out of our
faith and our hope. It can leave us despairing of the world that we are leaving
to our children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren!
But that is precisely why our life together in this
community of faith is so very important. Because, as Nouwen wisely observes, we
keep our faith and our hope alive by “saying it together.” We keep our faith
and our hope alive by “affirming it in each other.” We do that by worshipping
together right here. That’s why worshipping together is so important. That’s
where we keep our faith and our hope alive together. We do that in this
community. Yes, in this community where some of us hold long-standing
hurts over offenses we’ve inflicted on each other. In this community
where some of us have let others down. In this community where we may be
afraid to speak our deepest truth out loud, for fear of having others gossip
about us. We keep “the flame of hope alive” as we nurture it and affirm it
together in a real, live, flawed community of real, live, flawed people.
I think what Nouwen might be calling our attention to is
that Christian hope, real hope that has the strength to face the real world
with everything in it that we want look away from, takes root and grows in our
hearts as we share it together with real people in a real community. Even and
especially when that community might include people we may not particularly
like. If our hope is to remain alive in the real world, it has to be nurtured
in a real, live community, flaws and all. In fact, as Nouwen reminds us, that is the
very meaning of Christian community: it’s the place where we affirm our faith
and our hope together. We nurture hope in one another precisely as we affirm it
in one another, even and especially in those we may not care to have in our
community! And as we do so more and more, we embody in ourselves and in this
community the light of life that Jesus has given to us. That’s what keeps “the
flame of hope,” real hope, hope that can stand up to the challenges of real life,
alive in each other.
[1] © 2025 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 11/30/2025 for
Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
[2] Henri Nouwen, Finding My Way Home, 105-107; cited in Henri Nouwen, You
Are the Beloved: 365 Daily Readings and Meditations for Spiritual Living, 361.
