Monday, February 16, 2026

The Common Good

 The Common Good

1 Corinthians 12:1-11[1]

Over the course of about a thousand years, the work of the church evolved from being something that was primarily the work of the people to being something that was exclusively the work of priests. In fact, there were times when the priests were the only ones in worship. For centuries, most people actually went to church only on Easter Sunday. A typical Sunday in “church” saw the priests and their assistants working at the altar. If anyone happened to be sitting in the church to pray, the priests might not even have noticed, because they would have been facing the altar, with their backs turned to the rest of the church. You can see a remnant of this style of worship practiced still to this day in Orthodox Christian Churches. The priests do a lot of their “work” in leading worship facing the altar.

When the Protestant Reformation came along, the idea of the “priesthood of all believers” emerged as a foundational principle. Especially in the Reformed branch of the Protestant church under John Calvin, where the origins of Presbyterians lie, the idea was that the work of ministry belonged to everyone in the church. And those Reformers changed worship completely to focus on the reading of scripture, the singing of songs, hymns, and even the Psalms, and preaching. All of that was, of course, directed toward the congregation. Those who were doing the reading, singing, and preaching faced the people.

Today we’ve celebrated this aspect of our roots in the Presbyterian church. By ordaining and installing elders and deacons to serve the people of this congregation and this community with “energy, intelligence, imagination, and love,” we celebrate our belief that the work of the church doesn’t belong to some exclusive class of priests. Rather, the work of the church belongs to us all. But then that also puts us all on the spot, to some extent. Because in the Presbyterian church, we believe that we’re all a part of the work of this church. We all have a role to play, and unless we all play our roles, we cannot fully carry out our ministry as a church.

Some of us might object that we don’t have the skills or the training to do the work of ministry. In our Scripture reading from 1 Corinthians for today, Paul reminds us that we already have all we need to fully carry out the ministry of this church. He says it this way in our reading for today: “God’s various gifts are handed out everywhere; but they all originate in God’s Spirit. God’s various ministries are carried out everywhere; but they all originate [with the Lord Jesus Christ]. God’s various expressions of power are in action everywhere; but God himself is behind it all” (1 Cor 12:4-6, MSG). One of the reasons why Paul was addressing this topic is because some in the church at Corinth were claiming that their “gifts” were superior to the others. Paul made it clear that there’s no room for that kind of thinking in the body of Christ. In the body of Christ, every member is important.

Throughout his letters, Paul makes it clear that all of life in the church is the result of the work of the Spirit of God. When the church thrives, it’s because the Spirit of God is working among us and through us. When the church comes together in a way that unites believers from across all the lines that would divide us, it’s the work of the Spirit of God. When the members of a congregation like this one share in the serving one another and the community around us, it’s because the Spirit of God has enabled us to do so. For St. Paul, every aspect of the church’s life and ministry comes from the Spirit of God. And part of the point of this is to assure us, just like those early believers at Corinth, that God’s Spirit is indeed working among us and through us.

Perhaps the most surprising element in all of this is the fact that God has chosen to accomplish this work through people like you and me. And to do this, he gives us the “gifts of the Spirit,” which Paul says are given to each person “for the common good” (1 Cor. 12:7). In The Message version we read together this morning, it says it this way: “Each person is given something to do that shows who God is: Everyone gets in on it, everyone benefits.” In other words, every single person in this church has some “gift” from the Spirit that is to be used for the benefit of the whole church. But that also means that for the church to thrive all the members of the body have to share the gifts they have been given. We may have a variety of gifts, but all of them come from the same Spirit and are meant for one purpose: to build up the body of Christ.

I think one major mistake people make when they try to figure out what their “spiritual gift” might be is that they try to see where they fit into the lists of gifts mentioned in the Bible. But I don’t believe Paul ever intended for the gifts he named to be taken as the only ones out there. They are examples of the ways that the Spirit of God was working through people in the churches of his day. To be sure, some of those gifts are timeless. There will always be a need for teaching. There will always be a place for generosity. There will always be a call for leadership. But I would say that your “spiritual gift” might not even be in one of the biblical lists. That may make it a little harder to discern how you fit into the body of Christ, but it also gives you the freedom to be the person God has called you to be in building up the body of Christ.

One of the challenges facing most churches like ours is what might be called a “generational shift.” Many of the people who have been doing the work of ministry may no longer be able or available to be as involved as they once were. And the families who are mostly being served by the church are reticent to step up into leadership roles, because their lives are pretty hectic already. As a result, there are “jobs” in the church that may fall by the wayside. It may leave some of us wondering “whose job is this?” It seems to me that Paul gives us at least one piece of helpful advice: the Spirit of God has given us all gifts to be used “for the common good” in building up the church. If I may be so bold, it would seem to me that his answer to the question, “whose job is this?” would be, “It’s our job.” All of us. Today, we celebrated that aspect of our faith by ordaining and installing a group of people who stepped up and said “yes” when they were asked if they would serve. But whether or not you’re serving in a formal role, we all share the same calling: to serve one another and this community with the gifts God’s Spirit has given us.



[1] ©2026 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 1/25/2026 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

All We Need

 All We Need

1 Corinthians 1:1-9[1]

I’m not sure which is harder: renovating an existing building or starting from scratch. I’ve had some experience with both. Those of you do-it-yourself-er’s out there know what happens when you try to renovate an older home. There’s always something underneath what you can see that makes the project take three times longer than you expected. The home in Houston where I lived was a mid-1960’s Ranch style home that had been “redone” by the previous owners. Unfortunately, they had cut a lot of corners in the process. A lot of corners. It seemed like every time we started a project, we had to spend a significant amount of time undoing what the previous owners had done. It was frustrating at times, but the end result was satisfying. 

Building a new structure from scratch presents its own challenges. If you’ve never had the pleasure, let me assure you that all the delays—from permits to suppliers to contractors—can make it just as frustrating a process. Maybe more so. As some of you know, one of the churches I served in Houston was destroyed by fire in 2010. This was a congregation with maybe 40 members. We had a great insurance policy, so we were able to hire architects to design a beautiful building. And with a little bit of “value engineering,” we were able to build that beautiful building with very little money out of pocket. But it wasn’t an easy process. We had to spend $300,000 just on moving dirt around to comply with the new flood plain policy. I guess I’d say building something new took only twice as long as expected, so maybe it was a little easier. Maybe.

There are people who would debate whether it’s easier to lead an existing congregation to thrive, or to build a new congregation from scratch. An existing congregation typically has the “critical mass” of resources needed to thrive. But with those resources come established traditions, and traditions are slow to adapt to the times. With a new congregation, you have a “blank slate,” so to speak. You can come up with new “traditions” that seem to work best for the specific time and place you’re trying to serve. But all that takes time and a whole lot of energy on the part of a few people, maybe primarily one person. I think how you approach this question depends on your gifts. Some people have the gift of coming into a new situation, seeing exactly what the needs are, and organizing a group of people to meet those needs. They have a knack for the work of planting a new church. Others have the gift of working with an established congregation to lead them forward. In both cases, as a friend of mine put it years ago, leadership is essentially about listening. You listen for the needs and try to respond appropriately.

Two of our scripture lessons deal with communities facing challenging situations, almost like “rebuilding.” In our lesson from Isaiah, the prophet was addressing people living in exile. Everything they had known—at least those who could remember it—had been taken from them. They had been uprooted and dropped in a place that was strange and seemed very far away from God. Their greatest challenge was maintaining their faith. In that place where they all felt displaced the Lord spoke through the prophet to change their focus. The people of Israel had focused all their attention on restoring what they had lost from their past. But through his “Servant,” the Lord God commissioned them to something much bigger than they had imagined. They were going to be “a light to the Gentiles,” to “bring my salvation to the ends of the earth” (Isa 49:6, NLT).

  I think the believers in Corinth had some similar doubts about what they were doing. They were a new congregation. The Apostle Paul had started the church in Corinth during an 18-month ministry there. But they had become confused about how they were supposed to live their lives together in Christian community. They were divided, and the factions were pulling the congregation in very different directions—some closer to their Jewish heritage, some away from it. One of the fundamental challenges they faced was how Jewish Christians and Christians from other nations could live together in one community of faith. And I would imagine the people in Corinth saw the task of trying to integrate people of such different backgrounds as next to impossible. It might have been similar to trying to build a congregation from two groups of people who speak completely different languages.

But the Apostle began his instructions with the assurance that they already had everything they needed to accomplish the task. He reminded them that everything they did was built on “the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus” (1 Cor 1:4). That’s a pretty good foundation. More specifically, he told them that they had already been fully equipped by the Spirit to carry out their work: “in every way you have been enriched in him, in speech and knowledge of every kind ... so that you are not lacking in any gift” (1 Cor 1:5, 7). He’s talking about the “gifts” of the Spirit they needed to do the work of ministry and build up the body of Christ. And just in case they had any lingering doubts, Paul encouraged them that their faithful God would strengthen them to the end (1 Cor 1:8).

We’re living through a time of sweeping changes: changes in culture, changes in family structures, changes in our economy, and also changes in the church. Many of us may feel like the people of Israel: we may feel like refugees living in a strange land! We may find ourselves grieving that what was so familiar in the past is gone. Others among us may see ourselves more like the people at Corinth. We may be eager for the future to come, so eager that we’re not willing to practice patience and understanding toward those who may seem to be “dragging their feet.” We may be thinking that it’s impossible to forge a true community from people who have such deep differences in the way they look at life.

I think in both cases, the challenge of our Scriptures for today is to re-direct our focus toward what God is doing among us. It’s often called a “new thing” in Scripture, something unexpected, something we can’t even imagine. I know that it’s hard to see the past and things that we have cherished for decades seemingly slipping away. Instead of wringing our hands about the way church “used to be,” I would say that perhaps the way to move forward positively is to always be open to the possibility that our God is calling us on to something new, something bigger than we can even imagine. That means having the courage to let God lead us into the future that he’s planned for us. At the same time, some of us may feel stuck in frustration that things aren’t changing fast enough. I think it’s important for us to remember that God’s timing isn’t our timing. It’s also important to remember that the Spirit has fully equipped us with all we need to carry out our mission.

Life has changed so much, just in the course of my lifetime. It can be hard to look back on what worked so well for so long and see that they’re not working now. We struggle with not understanding why they’re not working. We struggle with trying to re-energize those programs, trying to figure out a way to rebuild them. It’s a little bit like renovating an existing building. It’s also hard and scary to think about what new things God may be doing among us, because we’re used to the way things have been. But if God is the one who is sovereign, and if we’re trusting God with our lives, then that always means recognizing that while we may not know what God is doing in and through us, we place our hope and faith in God to lead us. At the end of the day, Scripture reminds us that our faithful God will complete the work he is doing among us. It seems to me that’s where our faith is rooted: in the promises of our faithful God. He will always be with us. He will always guide us. He will always give us all that we need to accomplish our work. And he will complete the work he is doing among us. May we trust him as we seek to be faithful in completing the work he’s called us to do.



[1] © 2026 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 1/18/2026 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Saturday, January 17, 2026

Setting Things Right

 Setting Things Right

Matthew 3:1-17[1]

I don’t know anyone who doesn’t want the world to be a better place for their children and grandchildren. I say that because it seems to me that the level of division in this country has gotten to the place where we see people as “enemies” and as a “threat” simply because they hold different points of view. One of the things that most of us disagree about is what it will take to make the world a better place for our children and grandchildren. Some think that we need a free market that encourages those who have wealth to invest it in our economy. Others believe we need equal opportunities for people of all walks of life. Some will say we need to invest more money in educating our children. And there are many who believe that people need to return to church as a way of making God more central to their lives. I’m sure all of these views make some valid points. But I’m also sure that not all of us are ever going to agree completely on what it will take to make a better world.

I would say that our gospel lesson for today actually addresses the question of what it will take to make this world a better place. It talks about the ministry of John the baptizer, whom many in his day considered to be a prophet. And like the prophets of old, when some of the Jewish leaders came to present themselves for baptism, John told them to get their lives right with God first. I think it’s easy to miss that message from the prophets. More often than not, prophets called people to return to God, just like John the baptizer. Part of the problem is that the way they called people to return to God was by insisting that they practice true justice. If you read the story of the Jewish people, you find that their leaders were inconsistent to say the least about leading the people according to God’s standards for justice.

As I’ve said many times, I’m not sure we really get what the prophets were talking about when they called people to practice justice. Part of the reason for that is that our idea of justice is very different from theirs. In our world, “justice” is something that happens in courtrooms. Justice is about arbitrating disputes and determining guilt or innocence and handing down punishments for crimes. So when we hear, “he will bring justice to all the nations” (Isa 42:1), we think he’s going to punish people. But in the Bible, God’s justice means food for the hungry, freedom for the prisoners, lifting up those who are bowed down under heavy burdens, and protecting the refugees, the widows, and the orphans. That tradition begins with Moses, and it runs throughout the prophets, and Jesus adopts it as well. In the language of the prophets, this kind of justice is what makes it possible for all people to thrive together. And that’s what the prophets call “peace.”

We see this also in our lesson from the prophet Isaiah for today. The mission of the “Servant” of the Lord is to “bring justice to the nations” (Isa. 42:1, NLT). That might sound ominous to our ears, but the way the prophet describes it is anything but ominous. Our lesson says it this way: “He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle” (Isa. 42:3, NLT). I like the way Gene Peterson renders it in The Message translation: “He won’t brush aside the bruised and the hurt and he won’t disregard the small and insignificant.” And the whole purpose of all of this was that he would “bring justice to all who have been wronged.” Or, as Gene Peterson puts it, “he’ll steadily and firmly set things right.” That’s what justice means. Setting things right in this world, especially for those who have been wronged.

That brings us back to our gospel lesson. There’s a strange dialogue between John the baptizer and Jesus. When Jesus presents himself to be baptized, John objects, “I need to be baptized by you” (Mt. 3:14)!  Jesus’ response might seem confusing: “it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness” (Mt. 3:15). One would think that if anyone had “fulfilled all righteousness,” it was Jesus.  Once again, I think The Message captures the meaning well: “God’s work, putting things right all these centuries, is coming together right now in this baptism.” That’s how Gene Peterson interprets that phrase, “fulfilling all righteousness”: “God’s work” of “putting things right.” I think, in a very real sense, that’s what was going on. In his baptism Jesus was “fulfilling all righteousness” by making a public declaration that he was going to take the side of God’s justice in the world. He was going to promote God’s work of setting things right and lifting the burdens from the oppressed.

When Jesus announced at his baptism that his ministry would be following the path of setting things right for “the bruised and the hurt” along with “the small and insignificant,” I’m sure there were some who were shocked. Others may have even been offended. But Jesus was following the path that the prophets of old had laid out. I’ll have to admit that my understanding of what the Bible has to say about justice and about “setting things right” changed dramatically after I really read the books of the prophets in a way that I finally paid attention to what they were saying. When you pay attention, what you find is that more often than not, the prophets were calling out those in power for taking advantage of those who were weak and vulnerable. And if we pay attention to what Jesus was about, it seems to me that his declaration to John the baptizer that he was there to set things right was consistent with what the prophets had preached long before him. If we read Matthew’s Gospel we find that’s exactly what he did. He went about setting things right by feeding the hungry, lifting up those who were burdened, and caring for the most vulnerable, especially refugees, widows, orphans. From a biblical standpoint, that’s what justice looks like. That’s what setting things right looks like.

I sometimes think about a story my grandpa Brehm used to tell me. During the Great Depression in the 1930’s, my grandpa ran a grocery store in McAllen, TX. Most of his customers were able to pay for their groceries, but there were always some who needed to buy food on “credit.” That’s not like paying with a credit card. That meant that my grandpa extended “credit” to them. And my grandpa told me that while they did their best to pay him, not everyone could. But he gave them their groceries because he knew they needed food for their families. Some may have thought my grandpa was crazy for giving food to people he knew could never pay him. But he gave it to them because he knew they had families to feed, the same as he did. And although he may never have seen the results, I have to believe that my grandpa’s generosity likely made all the difference in the world for some of those people’s lives. I have to believe It made it possible for them to give their children and their grandchildren a better life. I would say that if we’re looking for a way to make this world a better place for our children and grandchildren, perhaps that’s where we should start. We can start by heeding Jesus’ words: “When I was hungry, you gave me something to eat, and when I was thirsty, you gave me something to drink. When I was a stranger, you welcomed me” (Mt 25:35, CEV). I think that’s a good place to start trying to set things right in this world, trying to make this a better world for our children and grandchildren, as well as our friends and neighbors.



[1] © 2026 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 1/11/ 2026 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Wednesday, January 14, 2026

The Light Keeps Shining

The Light Keeps Shining

John 1:1-18[1]

I’m pretty sure that most of us no longer remember what it’s like to light a candle to bring light into a dark room. We use candles these days more for decoration, or the fragrance, or simply the “presence” of a light on a dark night. I’ve grown up entirely with “artificial” lighting in my home. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t have artificial lighting in my home. The only time I ever used candles for lighting was when we had hurricanes or other storms that knocked out our electricity. Some of you may still use candles for that, but most of us don’t even use candles for “emergency” light anymore. Instead, we buy battery-powered lamps that are much brighter. We use candles for decoration. We use electricity for lighting, and even a relatively dim 60-watt bulb is the equivalent of 60 to 70 candles. And we typically have much brighter lighting going in our houses. We have flashlights on our phones that may overpower a single candle, and even the light from the screens we have going constantly can be brighter than a candle. I have a handheld flashlight that can be positively blinding! Some of you may as well. I’m pretty sure we don’t view a single candle as a source of light any longer.

By contrast, the whole Bible was written in a time when there was no artificial lighting. Candles and oil lamps were the sources of light. There were no street lamps, and none of the lighting they had was “instant,” like the flip of a switch or the push of a button. You had to actually “light” a candle or a lamp. And not with a device that you “clicked” on and off. Not with a match that could took from a box and could simply strike to light it. I think it’s hard for some of us to relate to a world not filled with artificial light. We’re so dependent on flipping a switch or pushing a button and having instant light. I would say that we may not be entirely comfortable with that kind of darkness—real darkness. The darkness you experience when you’re off in the wilderness. Some people can enjoy it. The light of a campfire in the wilderness, or the light of the stars and the moon on a clear night, can be mesmerizing. But for some of us that kind of darkness can feel oppressive, or depressing, or even frightening.

John’s Gospel presents the good news of Jesus Christ in terms of light shining in the darkness. Not only do I think that we have difficulty appreciating the light, we may a hard time grasping the darkness of our world. There is much that makes this a truly wonderful world, but we also live in a world full of darkness. We’re surrounded by it—violence in our schools, poverty that reduces working people to living in their cars, and racism that sparks hate crimes against people of color and of different faiths. But the darkness can be within as well. Many live in constant fear. They struggle with loneliness, depression, and even despair. They carry wounds and burdens inside them that the rest of us don’t normally see. Then there’s the darkness that exists in our world on a broader scale, from the corruption of greed to the destruction of warfare. We live in a world that can feel very dark indeed at times.

The good news of our Gospel reading for today is that Jesus came into this world as light. The light that he brings is called “life” in John’s Gospel, and it’s for everyone (Jn. 1:4). John’s Gospel wasn’t talking about “life” in terms of everyday, walking around, living-and-breathing life. The point was that Jesus came to bring a different quality of living. Rather than living in the darkness of fear or greed or hatred, Jesus came to bring a quality of living defined by God’s “grace and truth” (Jn. 1:14). God’s “truth” calls us to a life defined by love—the love Jesus demonstrated by giving his life for us all. God’s “grace” assures us that there’s nothing we can do to make God love us more and there’s nothing we can do to make God love us less. This grace and truth together offer us a quality of living that shines like a light in the darkness because when we know that God accepts us, we not only accept ourselves, but we can also accept others. That can be real light in this world for a lot of people. It can change our whole outlook on life!

The phrase in this passage that sticks in my mind is the one that says, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” (Jn. 1:5). There are some difficulties with this verse, including even how to translate it. Some of the older versions say, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.”[2] But I think the more pressing problem we have to deal with is that Jesus, the light of the world, was brutally executed on a Roman cross. Despite our faith that Jesus was raised from the dead and lives even now, some still today would say that the light of God’s grace and truth and love that Jesus brought into this world has been extinguished by the overwhelming power of darkness in our world. At least there are some people who feel like the darkness has “put out” that light. They have a hard time seeing the “light” in their lives. They have a hard time seeing that the “light” makes any difference for them. I think those whose lives have been “overcome” by darkness may have difficulty putting their faith in Jesus as the “light of the world.”

But you don’t have to have been totally overcome by the darkness in this world to have known its effect in your life. I would say that most of us here today have experienced some form of “darkness” in our lives. Whether it’s the greed that may deprive us of home or career, or the fear that violence in its many forms can instill, or the anger and even hatred we may feel toward others, whether it’s any kind of mistreatment we’ve experienced, most of us have known the power of darkness in this world. I don’t think the promise of the gospel here is that we will never have to suffer from the power of darkness in our world. The promise is that the darkness, however powerful it may be, does not overcome the light. I like the way the Good News Bible says it: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has never put it out.”

However dark this world may feel to us, however dark our lives in this world may feel, the good news of the Gospel of Jesus Christ is that the light of God’s grace and truth and love in Jesus Christ always shines, and the darkness has never put it out. I also like the way our version for today, the Contemporary English Version, puts it: “The light keeps shining in the dark, and darkness has never put it out.” The faith, hope, and love that God’s love in Jesus brought into this world live still in our hearts, no matter what we have had to endure. “The light keeps shining in the dark, and darkness has never put it out.” The quality of living that Jesus brought to us through God’s love is like a candle that gives its light to all in darkness, and it’s a light that never goes out. But it’s a different kind of light than what were used to. It’s like candlelight. Candle light is soft, gentle, and reassuring. We may have to look harder for it in the midst of all the other sources of so-called “light” in our world. But the light of God’s grace and truth and love is there, a light shining in the darkness. “The light keeps shining in the dark, and darkness has never put it out.” And that light will keep shining in our world until there is no more darkness. And the darkness will never put it out!



[1] © 2026 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 1/4/2026 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] For example, the King James, New King James, and New American Standard versions.

Born That Man No More May Die

 Born That Man No More May Die

Hebrews 2:10-18[1]

On Christmas Eve, we talked about how the light of God’s love shines in the darkness. And, as Henri Nouwen reminded us, “a little bit of light can dispel a lot of darkness.” For many of us, there’s no darkness we fear more than death. It’s the ultimate unknown. I realize that when we are young, death may seem remote and almost unreal. Until someone your age passes away. I had that happen to me when I was in college. Or perhaps a close family member whom you loved. Then the stark reality hits you. And when it does, most of us are unprepared for the fear that grips us. In response to that fear, we in this culture seem obsessed with keeping death as far away from us as possible. In days of old, people would die at home, and the family would care for their body. Now all of that is removed from our presence. And perhaps for good reason—there seems to be no logic, no rhyme or reason to the way the “grim reaper” takes its victims. Our inability to make any sense out of death only increases our fear.

But our New Testament lesson for today presents us with the good news that, because we bear this burden of mortality, Jesus also came as one of us, made of flesh and blood. He came not only to God’s unfailing love and continual presence with us, but he also came specifically bearing our mortality so that he could die as one of us. And the purpose of his death was to “free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death” (Heb. 2:15). Though the Scripture text doesn’t spell out precisely how it is that he sets us free from the fear of death, the New Testament elsewhere reminds us that Jesus didn’t just come to die, but also to be raised from the dead, and by doing so to triumph over all the powers of darkness in this world, most importantly death. 

Part of the purpose of his coming in the vulnerability of our flesh and blood was to demonstrate that our God is not so high and exalted as to be unconcerned with or unmoved by our burdens. There have been many who have believed that throughout the ages. Some of our “founding fathers” in this country believed God was like a clockmaker who made the clock, wound it up and let it go. It’s a belief system called “Deism.” They believed that God created the world, stood back, and lets it go on its way, but doesn’t get involved. On the contrary, the “gospel of Christmas” is that, by entering our broken and confusing existence as Immanuel, “God-who-is-with-us,” Jesus took all the burdens that we bear on himself. And so he made it clear that God is not the cold and distant deity whom some people have cringed before, and at times even hated. Rather, God is the one who loves us so much that, as we say in one of our confessions of faith, Jesus died to show us God’s love as “a love that is ready to suffer for our sakes.”[2]   

That may seem like a strange thing to say about God. It was the conclusion Dietrich Bonhoeffer came to as he sat in his cell in a Nazi prison camp. He said, “God lets himself be pushed out of the world on to the cross. He is weak and powerless in the world, and that is precisely the way, the only way, in which he is with us and helps us. … only the suffering God can help.” I think Bonhoeffer knew whereof he spoke. It would not be long before he would lose his life at the hands of the Nazis. Our lesson for today puts it this way: “Because Jesus himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested” (Heb. 2:18).

But that really is the question, isn’t it? Can a God who is vulnerable enough to enter our brokenness really be powerful enough to do something about it?  Wouldn’t it seem that a God who is able to suffer with us is a God who is just as impotent as we are in the face of our suffering and ultimately our experience of death? In fact, that has been what some have concluded: God loves us, and God suffers with us, but at the end of the day, that’s about all God can do for us. If that’s the case, I’m not sure many would conclude that a “suffering God” is “able to help” us at all. 

Others are unwilling to relegate God (and us) to such a helpless state in which our experience with death leaves us with a mystery of suffering that we cannot solve by any means. So they insist that though our experience of suffering and death may be burdensome to us now, God will ultimately bring good from it. The same confession I cited earlier says, “nothing evil is permitted to occur that God does not bend finally to the good.”[3] And there is some comfort to that. But “finally” or “ultimately” can seem like a very long time. It can seem like a very long time. So what are we to do in the meantime? How does the suffering love of our vulnerable God help us here and now?

Well, for one thing, I think we must not underestimate the power of that love that was poured out at the cross. It may look like the Jesus who dies on the cross was just as weak as any other human being. It may look like God is unable to do anything except suffer the pain of watching his son die. And yet, if we were to conclude that, we would be vastly underestimating the power of God’s love. One of my schoolmates offered a clarification of Bonhoeffer’s famous phrase by saying, “Only the suffering God can help, but it is only the suffering of the God who has greater power than we do over suffering that is able to help.”[4] And God does have greater power than we do over suffering, and so he is able to help.

Yes, love can be vulnerable. It does not retaliate, it does not lash out at those who may in fact take the life of the one who is loved or even the one who offers love. But love always breaks the power of evil. As we say in that same confession of faith, “An abyss of suffering” has been “swallowed up by the suffering of divine love.”[5] All the death, all the pain, all the fear that we can experience in this life, God has swallowed up into the suffering of his own love for us. Love always wins the day, no matter how long it takes to get to “ultimately.” And that is all the more certain with God’s love! God’s love most certainly wins the day.

But there is more to it than that. Although our lesson doesn’t mention it, surely the implication is there: Jesus did not remain in the grave. Death was not powerful enough to hold him. God raised him from the dead, and by so doing he not only vindicated the power of suffering love, but also demonstrated that God does more than “just” suffer with us when we suffer. Rather, as Henri Nouwen reminds us, the resurrection is the demonstration that “God’s light is more real than all the darkness, that God’s truth is more powerful than all human lies, that God’s love is stronger than death.”[6] And so in the vulnerability of Jesus taking on flesh and blood and dying for us all, and in the astonishing power of God raising him to life, we see God’s light overcoming all the darkness, even the darkness of death. And, as the Scripture says, “The light keeps shining in the dark, and darkness has never put it out” (Jn. 1:5, CEV)!



[1] © 2025 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 12/28/2025 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE. The title, "Born that Man No More May Die" is taken from a verse of the Hymn/Christmas Carol "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing," by Charles Wesley.

[2] The Study Catechism (1998), question 8.

[3] The Study Catechism (1998), question 22.

[4] Steven R. Harmon, “Hebrews 2:10-18,”Interpretation 59 (Oct 2005): 406.

[5] The Study Catechism (1998) question 45.

[6] Henri Nouwen, Here and Now: Living in the Spirit, 32