Cheating?

 Cheating?

1 Timothy 2:1-7[1]

We have a saying, “Cheaters never prosper.” Unfortunately, there are a lot of people in this world who “cheat” in some way or another and get away with it. That doesn’t sit well with most of us. We don’t like it when someone takes unfair advantage and gets away with it. Of course, except when we do it. And, of course, when we do it, it’s not “cheating” or “taking unfair advantage.” It’s “being smart.” Or “maximizing our opportunities.” Or “getting ahead.” We don’t like “cheaters,” but what most of us tend to overlook is the fact that we all have advantages that we didn’t necessarily work for. They were handed to us at birth. And in this world, our advantages represent a kind of “cheat” to those who don’t have them.

We tend to look at religion the same way. We believe that “heaven” is reserved for those who, like us, do things the “right” way. And those who fail to live up to the standards we have worked hard all our lives to maintain rightfully deserve to be denied access to “heaven” and its blessings. I think we have a hard time grasping the idea of a God who loves all people  with no strings attached.[2] It seems that in our experience with life, there are always strings attached. Or expectations we have to live up to. The idea that God simply loves us, and that there’s nothing we can do to change that love, is one that just doesn’t compute with many of us. In fact, we may think of it as “cheating” that some people who don’t live up to our standards get to enjoy the same love that we do. The idea that God loves us all unconditionally and irrevocably just doesn’t seem quite right, or perhaps even quite fair.

Despite all that, That God loves us all is precisely the message of our Scripture lesson for today from First Timothy. Simply put, “God our Savior … desires everyone to be saved” (1 Tim. 2:3-4). And to that end, “Christ Jesus … gave himself a ransom for all” (1 Tim. 2:5-6). The language is clearly all-inclusive, embracing “everyone.” That may come as a surprise to you, because it’s not the typical way in which we understand God’s “plan of salvation.” We tend to think of salvation not as a gift of God’s grace, but as a transaction. Those of us who do the right things, like believing in Jesus, going to church, and living the right kind of life, receive salvation as a reward for our efforts. Those who don’t get what they “deserve”

This view of salvation has been around for a long time. From the earliest days of the church, the accepted view was that “outside the church there is no salvation.” This makes the statement from our Scripture lesson problematic, to say the least. When you take that point of view, it’s hard to believe that God “desires everyone to be saved.” And so we have come up with ways to “adjust” this bold declaration to make it more palatable. Some will say “God desires everyone to be saved,” but “everyone” equals all kinds of people, not all people. Others say “God desires everyone to be saved,” but “everyone” equals all those whom God has chosen for salvation, not all people. The conclusion seems unavoidable that what they are really saying is that “God does not desire everyone to be saved”![3] 

I think there are a variety of reasons why we take this verse of Scripture and twist it around to mean the opposite of what it says. For one thing, we want life to be fair. If you’re like me, and you’ve been in church all your life, it can seem unfair that God offers salvation to everyone without conditions. I’ve had a long-standing member of a Presbyterian church ask the question, “If God is going to save everyone, then why do we go to church?” Of course, this betrays the assumption that we can somehow earn God’s love by attending church. In reality, that kind of thinking has it all backwards. We don’t go to church in order to earn God’s love. We go to church because we’ve encountered the incredible love God gives all of us, and in response we want to live our lives by loving God in every way we can.

I think another reason for this kind of thinking is that we think that people ought to get what they deserve. It can seem like “cheating” for someone who has lived however they pleased to get to experience God’s salvation just the same as those who have tried to practice kindness and justice. I also had a church member tell me “There are some people I want to go to hell!” Again, this misses the point of the gospel. The gift of salvation isn’t something we can somehow do enough good to “deserve.” The message of Scripture is that none of us can ever “deserve” God’s love. That’s why it’s a gift—for everyone. That’s a good thing for all of us—regardless of what we think we “deserve.”

I can accept and endorse the fact that there are different interpretations of the Christian faith.  There always have been, and there always will be.  But I never have and never will embrace a view of God that excludes the vast majority of humanity from the gift of salvation through Christ. I choose to take the Scripture at face value when it says “God desires everyone to be saved”!  And I believe it is valid both biblically and theologically to hope for and believe in God’s eventual redemption of all people.[4] The foundation for this faith is nothing less than God’s character: it’s who God is—God our Savior. [5]

I realize this sermon may leave some of you scratching your heads. It may not sound like any sermon you’ve ever heard before. Unfortunately, the idea that we have to earn God’s love by doing enough good to deserve salvation has been around for a long time. But I would say that idea is not consistent with the message of Scripture. The Bible teaches us that God loves us simply because that’s who God is. And there’s nothing we can ever do to deserve that love. The flip side of it is that there is nothing we can ever do to lose God’s love. The good news of the Gospel is that God loves us all, and because of that love he “desires for everyone to be saved.” That is the purpose and the goal toward which God has been working throughout the centuries. And nothing and no one will  be able to prevent God from accomplishing that goal. It may seem like “cheating” to some, but I call it “grace.”

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[1] © 2025 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 9/21/2025 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Hendrikus Berkhof, Christian Faith, 136, where he (as a Reformed theologian) points out that the doctrine of dual predestination “has caused much uncertainty and has robbed many Christians of the joy of the Christian faith.”

[3] Cf. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.23.1: “since election itself could not stand except as set over against reprobation … those whom God passes over, he condemns.” Calvin was influenced by Augustine of Hippo, who argued that God’s desire for “all people to be saved” only applies to those whom God has predestined to salvation, and excludes all others, even infants who die without being baptized. See Augustine, On Rebuke and Grace, 14.44; On the Predestination of the Saints, 18.36; Enchiridion, 27, 103; cf. Jaroslav Pelikan, The Christian Tradition I:321; Johannes Quasten, Patrology IV:443.  On infants, see Augustine, On the Soul and its Origin, 4.11.16; cf. Pelikan, Christian Tradition I:297-98.

[4] Many throughout the history of the church have endorsed this view, beginning with Origen of Caesarea, and including Gregory of Nyssa, Juliana of Norwich. See J. Pelikan, The Christian Tradition, I: 151-52; V:116-17, 224; J. Quasten, Patrology II:87-91; III:289-90. In more recent times this view was represented by Catholic theologians like Karl Rahner and Hans Urs von Balthasar, and by Protestant Theologians of all traditions. In the Reformed tradition, both Karl Barth (eventually) and Jürgen Moltmann, both of whom were influenced by the 19^th Century German pietist Christoph Blumhardt, endorsed this viewpoint.

[5] Cf. James D. G. Dunn, “The First and Second Letters to Timothy and The Letter to Titus” New Interpreters Bible XI:798, where he says that this is “a statement that is as clear as any assertion of ‘Christian universalism’: God wills the salvation of everyone.”

Channels of Grace

Channels of Grace

1 Timothy 1:12-17[1]

We’ve been discussing some of the pitfalls of religion over the last several weeks. As hard as it is to admit, the Church has not escaped the flaws inherent in all human religion. I think it’s fitting to have this discussion this year because Luke’s Gospel focuses on these matters. A brief overview of history shows us that the Church has had a mixed legacy. In many cases those who follow Jesus have given sacrificially and have poured out kindness and mercy to those who are hurting. At times giving their very lives to serve other people. But in all too many cases, I’m afraid the Church has been responsible for inflicting harm. More than that, the Church has inflicted violence of many kinds on innocent people. At times it was just for being from the wrong religion. I think about the crusades. At times it was for being the wrong gender. I think about the “witch hunts.” There were sometimes when it was simply for practicing a different form of Christianity! I think about Protestants versus Catholics and vice versa.

Just like every other human endeavor, religion is flawed because it is practiced by human beings. Many others have observed that the roots of the problem are to be found in our own capacity for fear, hatred, and self-deception![2] As hard as it is for us to hear, our religion can turn into neurosis. The definition of neurosis is that what a person has repressed—fear of not being “enough,” self-hatred, excessive pride, unbridled desires—becomes what they see in others. But it’s all an elaborate  (but unconscious) ploy to avoid having to face the ugly truth within themselves![3] This repression of one’s own insecurity and guilt inevitably leads to a rigid set of rules and authoritarian beliefs that are considered absolute precisely because they protect the guilty from having to face their own shame. Anyone who opposes, challenges, or in any way questions that system of religious self-justification becomes the target of vicious hatred and violent attacks. It’s happened over and over again in the history of the world! When religion originates with fear and hatred, it’s no wonder that people kill others in the name of God, as heartbreaking as it is to recognize!

By his own admission, St. Paul was such a man. His devotion to Judaism was so complete that he considered the message of Jesus about God’s joyful acceptance even of those who have lost their way to be a blasphemous insult. When confronted with the gospel, Paul’s initial response was violent. Anyone who preached Jesus’ message deserved a death sentence. What made Jesus’ gospel outrageous to someone like Paul was that it defines God as the one who loves everyone so much that he goes out searching for those who have lost their way, as our Gospel lesson reminds us.[4] But the fact that Jesus preached and enacted that good news contradicted Paul’s original view of God as a stern and unfeeling judge who doles out rewards and punishments in strict conformity to obedience and sin. Jesus’ message of grace and mercy to those who have lost their way was an intolerable upheaval in the image of God for Jewish zealots like Paul. It was outright blasphemy! And so he set about to eradicate it.

Again, this isn’t propaganda hurled against Paul by his opponents. This comes from Paul’s own confessions about his life. In our lesson from 1 Timothy for today, we hear about how Paul had formerly been “a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence” (1 Tim. 1:13). I can imagine that his heart broke as he authored those words. The book of Acts recounts that Paul was on his way to Damascus with the authority to seek out followers of Jesus and have them put to death! The sobering fact is that he did all of that on God’s behalf, as an expression of his faith. That may seem impossible to believe, and yet I think it was part and parcel of his version of that compulsive, neurotic religion. When confronted with something he could not reconcile with his own “sacred cows,” Paul didn’t hesitate to act in anger and violence. People of all faiths still do it all the time.

But something happened to Paul that changed him. He came face-to-face with the risen and exalted Christ. And as a result Paul says he received mercy and grace “poured all over” him (1 Tim 1:14, CEB). That was enough to convince him that he was headed in the wrong direction. So he turned his life around. But more than that, he received a commission: Paul says he was “judged faithful” and “appointed” to serve Christ. And so, as he says elsewhere, Paul began to proclaim the good news he had formerly tried to destroy (cf. Gal. 1:23). In a real sense, Paul became a channel of the very grace and mercy he had formerly sought to suppress and even to eradicate.

Some might be tempted to say that God made an exception for Paul. But our lesson for today suggests that the reason why Paul experienced such extraordinary grace and mercy was not only to make him a channel of that grace to others, but also to show that this is the way God deals with us all. As the Scripture lesson puts it, Paul’s experience was to demonstrate that “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” (1 Tim. 1:15). Since Paul could consider himself the “foremost,” or a “worst-case” sinner, our lesson says that he received mercy so that “Jesus Christ might display the utmost patience, making me an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life” (1 Tim. 1:16). Paul experienced God’s grace, mercy, and love so that he could become a channel of that grace to others, especially those who were considered a “lost cause.”

I think some of this might come as a shock to us. After all, it is “Saint Paul” we’re talking about, preacher and teacher of the gospel, founder and pastor of churches, and writer of about a third of the New Testament! He’s called “Saint Paul” for a reason. Most of us would consider ourselves much worse sinners than Paul! But I would say our lesson insists that the reason why Paul experienced such amazing grace and mercy was to show there is no one who is beyond the love of God. By his own admission he had blasphemed Christ and viciously attacked and even murdered Christians. If he could be forgiven for that, then there was no one who could not be forgiven their sins. Since Jesus came into the world to save sinners, that includes us all. Paul was the prime example of how God’s grace can transform even the most violent person into a channel of grace to others.

While our Scripture lesson for today comes from the end of Paul’s life, the message that God’s grace and mercy and love are for all people was an important part of the gospel Paul preached from the very beginning. In fact, this message can be found in Scripture long before Paul lived, even before Jesus died on the cross. Throughout the Hebrew Bible, God displays grace and mercy to the people of Israel again and again. Grace and mercy and unfailing love define God’s very character throughout the Bible. We might wonder how Paul and his compatriots could be so devoted to Scripture and be so completely wrong-headed about God. And yet, as I observed when we began, whenever anyone uses religion to cover up a fundamental sense of guilt and shame, their religion can become angry and violent.

As was the case for Paul, so it is still true today that God’s grace and mercy and love remain intact, even for those who use their religion to harm others. God’s grace remains for us all! And part of Paul’s point in our lesson from 1 Timothy is that the extraordinary grace God showed someone like Paul is for everyone. Christ Jesus came to save us all. That means there is no one who is ever beyond the love of God. This is the way God has dealt with people from the very beginning. But the purpose of God’s grace has always been to transform those who experience it into channels of grace to others. That was true with Abraham and his descendants. It was true for Paul and his compatriots. And it’s still true for us today.

There are things happening in our world and in our country that are troubling and discouraging. It may leave us wondering what we can do to make a difference in this big world that seems to be spinning out of control into violence and hatred. I’ve said it before: I believe that every time we act with integrity and compassion, it makes a difference. Every time we share the grace we’ve received from God with someone else, it makes a difference. It certainly makes a difference directly in the life of those with whom we share that grace. But I believe it also makes a difference in the bigger world. We may not see it. We may not see the path in front of us, but that’s because we’re living in a time when we’re forging that path by every act of integrity, kindness, or compassion. Every time we act as channels of God’s grace, we’re forging the path toward the light, toward goodness. We’re blazing the trail toward kingdom of God. The purpose of God’s grace has always been to transform us into channels of grace to others. That was true for Paul and it’s still true for us today. God shows us his grace and mercy and love, without restrictions or conditions, to make us into people who will rejoice with him any time anyone who has lost their way finds their way back home. He does so to make us into people who will become channels of that grace to those around us.

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[1] © Alan Brehm 2025. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 9/14/2025 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Keith Ward, Is Religion Dangerous?, 25-41. Jürgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 186-89.

[3] Cf. Paul Tillich, “The Yoke of Religion,” in The Shaking of the Foundations, 93-103; Emil Brunner, Revelation and Reason, 258-273; Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, 236.

[4] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Crucified God, 128-29, where he points out that Jesus “demonstrated God’s eschatological law of grace towards those without the law and the transgressors of the law, through his forgiveness of sins. By so doing he abolished the legal distinction between religious and secular, righteous and unrighteous, devout and sinful. He revealed God in a different way from that in which he was understood in the law and the tradition and was perceived by the guardians of the law.” Cf. also ibid., 142, where he speaks of this as a “revolution in the concept of God”: “God comes not to carry out just revenge upon the evil, but to justify by grace sinners, whether they are Zealots or tax collectors, Pharisees or sinners, Jews or Samaritans, and therefore, also, whether they are Jews or Gentiles.”

Taking Hold of Life

Taking Hold of Life

1 Timothy 6:6-19[1]

I think it’s safe to say that we as a people tend to be active. We’d rather do something than just sit around and wait. In fact, in comparison with other “modern” countries, we tend to work more hours than anyone, with perhaps one or two notable exceptions. I’d say there are a variety of reasons for this. For some of us, we just prefer to be busy and productive to doing nothing. For others, our sense of self-esteem is found in our work, so striving to work hard helps us feel better about ourselves. Still others work as much as we can simply to earn as much money as possible. We all have our reasons, but we tend to go out and take hold of what we want in life.

Unfortunately, the things to which we devote ourselves in this quest to take hold of life usually fail to give us any lasting satisfaction.[2] We tend to look for life in all the wrong places. Even the most fulfilling career is, at the end of the day, still a job. It is a means to make a livelihood. And there are times when we would rather do just about any other job. A home is at times simply a house, a family can at times make us feel crazy, and there’s only so much fun we can squeeze out of any activity. Our ultimate security rests on money. We live in a society that operates on the basis of money. It’s a part of life. But when we trust our money to enable us to take hold of the life we want, we’re very likely setting ourselves up for disappointment.

One of the focal points of our lesson from First Timothy for today is that there is only way to take hold of the life that is truly life: by placing our hope in God. This may sound strange in light of our discussion last week about how salvation is a gift of God’s grace and there’s nothing we can do to earn it or deserve it. This week, the Scripture lesson tells us to “Fight the good fight of the faith; take hold of the eternal life, to which you were called” (1 Tim. 6:12). That sounds very different from what we heard last week. It sounds like we’re expected to play an active role in our salvation.

You may be wondering how it can be both ways: our salvation is something that comes to us as a gift of God’s love, quite apart from anything we could possibly do. And yet at the same time we are called to take hold of the new life that God offers us in an active way. Those two statements might seem to contradict one another. If salvation is a gift, how can we play an active role in it? And if we’re called to “take hold” of our salvation by what we do, how can it be a gift? This dilemma is one that some are tempted to resolve by choosing one side or the other: either grace or our actions are the basis for salvation, but not both. Yet, the Scriptures consistently present both perspectives.

I think at least part of the answer to this question is that, while salvation is a gift of God’s grace, we are still “called,” and that implies a response.[3] We don’t just sit back and kick our feet up thinking we’ve got it made. The new life that God offers us doesn’t just work automatically, without any purposeful action on our part. Rather, our Scripture lesson reminds us that it is something that we are called to “take hold.” As St. Paul tells us elsewhere, the life we have received as a gift of God’s love is something we are to “work out” (Phil 2:12) and “press on to make it [our] own” (Phil. 3:12). In this balance between God’s grace and our response, of course God’s grace has priority.[4] There would be no salvation for us to take hold unless God had made a way. But our response is still an important part of the equation.

Be that as it may, our lesson provides us with a rather strange way of “taking hold” of this life that God offers us. The way we’re to do that is through “godliness combined with contentment” (1 Tim. 6:6). I’m not sure either one of those factors that our text says lead to true life are familiar to us. Here, “godliness” is not a “holier than thou” attitude, but the sum total of what it means to live the Christian life. And “contentment” is not the equivalent to being complacent. Rather it is a perspective on life that is based on the conviction that all that we are and all that we have comes from God and rests firmly in God’s hands.[5] Our lesson applies it primarily to our attitude toward money. But I think the point of the passage is to find contentment by letting go not just our wealth, but all the strategies we have for holding on to what we think will give us life. When we do that, then we are beginning to “take hold” the life God offers us so freely.

In essence, the message of our lesson is that we take hold of our lives by letting them go, by entrusting them into God’s hands. Rather than pursuing our own means for securing our lives, we’re to put our hope in “God who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment” (1 Tim. 6:17). That’s the way to find “godliness combined with contentment.” That’s the way to take hold of “the life that really is life” (1 Tim. 6:19). It may seem contradictory to say that we “take hold” of true life by letting go of everything that we think gives us life. But the only certain basis for a satisfying life is found in God. Only when we let go the things we think give us life and set our hope on God’s unfailing love do we truly take hold of the “eternal life” to which we are called.

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[1] ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 9/25/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Thomas Moore, Care of the Soul, where he advocates “Care of the Soul,” or what I would call “embracing your life as it is,” as an important way of learning to fully appreciate life. He describes this process (p. xix) as “an appreciation of the paradoxical mysteries that blend light and darkness into the grandeur of what human life and culture can be.” In his book, he discusses, work, families, love, and possession, among other topics. Cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, The Gospel of Liberation, 102: “So long as man makes idols out of his life’s environment, then his certainty of life is surrounded by anxiety.”

[3] James D. G. Dunn, “The First and Second Letters to Timothy and the Letter to Titus,” New Intepreters Bible XI:829: “Eternal life is a gift of God's calling—a regular term for God's initiative in establishing the process of salvation (2 Tim 1:9; cf. Rom 4:17; 9:11, 24; 1 Cor 1:9; 1 Thess 5:24)—but they must ‘take hold of,’ ‘grasp’ it.”  Cf. also Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 4.3.2:646: “The good fight in which the Christian finds himself must be accepted and fought. He must really lay hold on the eternal life to which he is called (1 Tim. 6:12). What is meant by the terms ‘fight’ and ‘lay hold’? He is to be what he is, namely, a disciple, a witness, a Christian. He is to remain, and continually to become again, what he is.”

[4] Cf. W. D. Mounce, Pastoral Epistles, 368: “Salvation in the PE [Pastoral Epistles] is by God’s grace and mercy alone (cf. 1 Tim 1:12–17). There is an emphasis in the PE on the practical outworking of Christianity such as the doing of good deeds (cf. 1 Tim 2:10; 6:18), but these actions are the result of one’s faith and not attempts to earn God’s favor.”

[5] Cf. Dunn, “First and Second Timothy and Titus,” NIB XI:828: “autarkeia [contentment] was a favorite virtue of the Stoics and Cynics, the two main classical alternatives to Christianity. It denoted ‘self-sufficiency,’ ‘contentment’ and characterized an attitude that cherished simplicity and a life lived in acceptance of the hand dealt out by nature or fortune. Here perhaps more clearly than anywhere else in the Pastorals we can see a pattern of Christianity in which specific Christian teaching and virtues like love are integrated with already acknowledged virtues cherished by others.” Cf. also Mounce, Pastoral Epistles, 341: “Paul’s contentment is rooted in a faith that denies his own ability to perform his tasks and asserts the need for total reliance on the all-powerful God.”

God our Savior

God Our Savior

1 Timothy 2:1-7[1]

It might shock you, but I would say that we get many of our ideas about God from pagan religions, rather than from the Bible. I think we are actually much more comfortable with the gods of Greek and Roman mythology than we are with the God and Father of our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ. We understand the pagan gods. They act like us. They get angry and take their anger out on others. They have wants and needs and desires and they will do whatever it takes to get what they want. And so if you do what the gods want, then you’re happy and blessed, but if you don’t they will very likely smite you. It’s not a particularly attractive picture, but it’s one we can grasp.

I think we have a hard time grasping the idea of a God who loves us simply because we exist. Some of us may have a hard time identifying with the notion of love that is unconditional and never-ending, no matter what.[2] It seems that in our experience with life, there are always strings attached when it comes to love. Or expectations we have to live up to. Or disappointments when someone lets us down. The idea that someone might love us for no particular reason, and that there’s nothing we could do to change that love, is one that simply doesn’t compute with many of us. And so we have difficulty accepting the message that God loves us all unconditionally and irrevocably, because it doesn’t fit our experience with life.

That is precisely the message of our Scripture lesson for today from First Timothy. Simply put, “God our Savior … desires everyone to be saved” (1 Tim. 2:3-4). And to that end, “Christ Jesus … gave himself a ransom for all” (1 Tim. 2:5-6). The language is clearly all-inclusive, embracing “everyone.” That may come as a surprise to you, because it’s not the typical way in which we understand God’s “plan of salvation.” We tend to think of salvation not as a gift of God’s grace, but as a transaction. Those of us who do the right things, like believing in Jesus, going to church, a living the right kind of life, receive salvation as a reward for our efforts.

This view of salvation has been around for a long time. From the earliest days of the church, the accepted view was that “outside the church there is no salvation.” This makes the statement from our Scripture lesson problematic, to say the least. When you take that point of view, it’s hard to believe that God “desires everyone to be saved.” And so we have come up with a number of “adjustments” to make this bold declaration more palatable to us. Some will say “God desires everyone to be saved,” but “everyone” equals all kinds of people, not all people. Others say “God desires everyone to be saved,” but “everyone” equals all those whom God has chosen for salvation, not all people.[3] The conclusion seems unavoidable that what they are really saying is that “God does not desire everyone to be saved”![4]

I think there are a variety of reasons why we take this verse of Scripture and twist it around to mean the opposite of what it says. For one thing, we want life to be fair. If you’re like me, and you’ve been in church all your life, it can seem unfair that God offers salvation to everyone without conditions. I’ve had a long-standing member of a Presbyterian church ask the question, “If God is going to save everyone, then why do we go to church?” Of course, this betrays the assumption that we can somehow earn God’s love by attending church. In reality, that kind of thinking has it all backwards. We don’t go to church in order to earn God’s love. We go to church because we’ve encountered the incredible love God gives all of us, and in response we want to live our lives by loving God in every way we can.

I think another reason for this kind of thinking is that we think that people ought to get what they deserve. It can seem like “cheating” for someone who has lived however they pleased to get to experience God’s salvation just the same as those who have tried to practice kindness and compassion and justice. I also had a church member tell me “There are some people I want to go to hell!” Again, this misses the point of the gospel. The gift of salvation isn’t something we can somehow do enough good to “deserve.” The message of Scripture is that none of us can ever “deserve” God’s love. That’s why it’s a gift—for everyone. That’s a good thing for all of us—regardless of what we think we “deserve.”

I can accept and endorse the fact that there are different interpretations of the Christian faith.  There always have been, and there always will be.  But I never have and never will embrace a view of God that excludes the vast majority of humanity from the gift of salvation through Christ. I choose to take the Scripture at face value when it says “God desires everyone to be saved”!  And I believe it is valid both biblically and theologically to hope for and believe in God’s eventual redemption of all people.[5] The foundation for this faith is nothing less than God’s character: it’s who God is—God our Savior.[6]

I realize this sermon may leave some of you scratching your heads. It may not sound like any sermon you’ve ever heard before.[7] Unfortunately, the idea that we have to please God by earning God’s love and by doing enough good to deserve salvation has been around for a long time. Unfortunately, sheer repetition has reinforced this idea so much that many of us assume it to be true. But I would say that it is not consistent with the message of Scripture. The Bible teaches us that God loves us simply because that’s who God is. And there’s nothing we can ever do to deserve that love. The flip side of it is that there is nothing we can ever do to lose God’s love. The good news of the Gospel is that God loves us all, and because of that love he “desires for everyone to be saved.” That is the purpose and the goal toward which God has been working throughout the centuries because it’s who God is: God our Savior.

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[1] ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 9/18/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Hendrikus Berkhof, Christian Faith, 136, where he (as a Reformed theologian) points out that the Reformed tradition with its doctrine of dual predestination “has caused much uncertainty and has robbed many Christians of the joy of the Christian faith.”

[3] An interesting variation of this view is the one that says that “God desires all people to be saved” except “all people” equals all those whom God knows in advance will actually believe if they have the opportunity to hear the Gospel. Cf. Douglas R. Geivett and W. Gary Phillips, in Four Views on Salvation in a Pluralistic World, ed. by S. Gundry, et. al, 198. They actually say it this way: “anyone who dies without hearing the good news is a person who would not have believed had he heard.”

[4] Cf. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.23.1, where he says “since election itself could not stand except as set over against reprobation … those whom God passes over, he condemns.”  Calvin was influenced by Augustine of Hippo, who argued that God’s desire for “all people to be saved” only applies to those whom God has predestined to salvation, and excludes all others, even infants who die without being baptized. See Augustine, On Rebuke and Grace, 14.44; On the Predestination of the Saints, 18.36; Enchiridion, 27, 103; cf. Jaroslav Pelikan, The Christian Tradition I:321; Johannes Quasten, Patrology IV:443.  On infants, see Augustine, On the Soul and its Origin, 4.11.16; cf. Pelikan, Christian Tradition I:297-98.

[5] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Trinity and the Kingdom, 39-40: “our hope is directed towards that divine future in which God will have all his creatures beside him to all eternity. That is to say, our hope is for the day when all things will be restored and gathered in a new, eternal order.” Many throughout the history of the church have endorsed this view, beginning with Origen of Caesarea.  See J. Pelikan, The Christian Tradition, I: 151-52; V:116-17, 224; J. Quasten, Patrology II:87-91, quoting Origen, Contra Celsus 8,72: “stronger than all evils in the soul is the Word, and the healing power that dwells in him; and this healing he applies, according to the will of God, to every man.”  Cf. also Gregory of Nyssa, Catechetical Orations, 26, who claimed that even the “inventor of evil” would eventually be healed by God’s grace.  See Quasten, Patrology, III:289-90

[6] Cf. James D. G. Dunn, “The First and Second Letters to Timothy and The Letter to Titus” New Interpreters Bible XI:798, where he says that this is “a statement that is as clear as any assertion of ‘Christian universalism’: God wills the salvation of everyone. The God who wished to save Paul, ‘chief of sinners’ (1:15), could hardly want anything less for everyone else (v. 4); the earlier Paul had spoken with equal boldness (Rom 11:32).” He continues (ibid.), “The fact that God is one (the primary Jewish confession, Shema; Deut 6:4) leads inevitably to the conclusion that God is God of all (as in Rom 3:29-30) and, therefore, is concerned for all. … In a formulation pushing toward universalism (“gave himself a ransom for all”), the limitation of effective mediation to Christ Jesus is not to exclude from salvation those who have not heard of Christ, but to affirm that effective salvation, wherever it is experienced, will be found to have been mediated through Christ.”

[7] W. D. Mounce, Pastoral Epistles, 93–94, offers a more palatable solution to the problem: he argues that in light of the context, the point of this passage is that the church at Ephesus is to include all people in their witness and prayers. In my opinion, this simply avoids the question whether we have confidence that God is able and willing to accomplish his will “on earth as it is in heaven.” Dunn’s solution is preferable (cf. Dunn, “First and Second Timothy and Titus,” NIB XI:799-800): “The problem with any theological system that turns its back on universalism, for no doubt good reasons of logic and self-reassurance, is that the resulting system postulates either a less generous God or a less omnipotent God than 1 Timothy envisions (cf. Rom 11:32). Here as elsewhere theological assertions need always to be qualified by the note of eschatological reserve. God’s ultimate purpose is ultimate and, therefore, still unknown, as well as the divine means of achieving that purpose. All human judgment is subject to eschatological verification. At this point, theology must simply give way to wondering worship (as in Rom 11:33-36).”

Endless Patience

Endless Patience

1 Timothy 1:12-17[1]

We are not patient people. Not typically. We have become accustomed to instant everything. Microwave ovens, the internet, and cell phones have gotten us in the habit of getting what we want right now. Of course, there are some notable exceptions among us, but I would say that patience is not something most of us come by naturally. We have to learn it. Life has a way of breaking down our impatience, and the more life experience we have, the more patient we’re likely to be. Many of you may be like me: I learned patience mostly from my children. Not that they were patient, but I had to learn patience in order to raise them.

I would say that, at least at first, St. Paul was not a patient man. In his early adulthood, he was climbing the ladder as fast as he possibly could. By his own confession, he had been a zealous Pharisee, devoted to obeying every rule in Judaism in every possible way.  As a result, when confronted with the gospel, Paul’s initial response was violent.  He considered the gospel to be worthy of a death sentence.  What made Jesus’ gospel outrageous to someone like Paul was that it presents a God who loves everyone so much that he goes out searching for those who have lost their way! That was an intolerable upheaval in the image of God for Jewish zealots like Paul.  It was outright blasphemy![2] And so he set about to eradicate it as quickly as possible.

That’s not some kind of exaggerated picture of Paul intended by his opponents to slander him. Most of it comes from Paul’s own confessions about his life. And so in our lesson from First Timothy for today,[3] we hear about how Paul had formerly been “a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence” (1 Tim. 1:13). The sobering fact is that he did all of that on God’s behalf, as an expression of his faith.[4] That may seem impossible to believe, and yet I think it was part and parcel of his impatience. When confronted with something he could not reconcile with his own cherished ideas about God, he didn’t hesitate to act in anger and violence. People of faith still do it all the time.

But something happened to Paul that changed him dramatically. He came face-to-face with the risen and exalted Christ, who loved Paul enough to die for him. And as a result Paul received mercy and grace “poured all over” him (1 Tim 1:14, CEB). That was enough to convince him that he was headed in the wrong direction. So he turned his life around completely. But more than that, Paul received a commission: he was “judged faithful” and “appointed” to serve Christ. And so, as he says elsewhere, Paul began to proclaim the good news he had formerly tried to destroy (cf. Gal. 1:23).

Some might be tempted to say that this is a special case. They might think that God made an exception for Paul because he was Paul. But that’s not what our lesson for today suggests. In fact, it suggests that the reason why Paul experienced such extraordinary grace and mercy was to show that this is the way God deals with us all. As the Scripture lesson puts it, Paul’s experience was to demonstrate that “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” (1 Tim. 1:15). Since Paul could consider himself the “foremost,” or a “worst-case” sinner, our lesson says that he received mercy so that “Jesus Christ might display the utmost patience, making me an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life” (1 Tim. 1:16). In the words of another translation, Paul experienced God’s “endless patience” (1 Tim. 1:16, CEB) that he shows toward us all.[5]

I think some of this might come as a shock to us. After all, it is “Saint Paul” we’re talking about, preacher and teacher of the gospel, founder and pastor of churches, and writer of about a third of the New Testament! Most of us would consider ourselves much worse sinners than Paul! But I would say our lesson insists that the reason why Paul experienced such amazing grace and mercy was to show there is no one who is beyond the love of God. He had blasphemed Christ and viciously attacked and even murdered Christians. If he could be forgiven for that, then there was no one who could not be forgiven. Since Jesus came into the world to save sinners, that includes us all. And Paul was the prime example of God’s “endless patience” that is available to everyone, everywhere.

Our Scripture lesson for today comes from the end of Paul’s life. The message that God’s grace and mercy and love are for all people was an important part of the gospel Paul preached from the very beginning. In fact, the idea of God’s “endless patience” can be found in Scripture long before Paul’s life, even before Jesus died on the cross. Throughout the Hebrew Bible, God displays grace and mercy to his wayward people again and again.[6] And yet, not only was this a fundamental part of Paul’s scripture, but also this was something Paul I think knew by personal experience. Over the course of his lifetime, I’m sure St. Paul had many occasions to observe God’s “endless patience” at work in his life.

I think the point of our lesson for today is that God’s “endless patience” is not just something that was true for a select few or for special cases like Paul. It’s true for us all. God shows us all extraordinary grace and mercy.[7] Christ Jesus came to save us all from our sins. There is no one who is beyond the love of God. This is the way God deals with us all—the same way he dealt with the people of Israel and the same way he dealt with Paul. It is the same way that God has always related to the human family. And I would venture to say that there are a number of us here today who have had many occasions to observe that God has worked in this same way in our lives. Just as God always has, so he always will show us “endless patience.”

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[1] ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 9/11/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Crucified God, 128-29, where he points out that Jesus “demonstrated God’s eschatological law of grace towards those without the law and the transgressors of the law, through his forgiveness of sins. By so doing he abolished the legal distinction between religious and secular, righteous and unrighteous, devout and sinful. He revealed God in a different way from that in which he was understood in the law and the tradition and was perceived by the guardians of the law.” Cf. also ibid., 142, where he speaks of this as a “revolution in the concept of God”: “God comes not to carry out just revenge upon the evil, but to justify by grace sinners, whether they are Zealots or tax collectors, Pharisees or sinners, Jews or Samaritans, and therefore, also, whether they are Jews or Gentiles.”

[3] Cf. James D. G. Dunn, “The First and Second Letters to Timothy and The Letter to Titus” New Interpreters Bible XI:779-80, where he discusses the question of the “Pauline” nature of the Pastoral Letters, which have been questioned as authentic letters of St. Paul for over 200 years. He suggests viewing the issue from the perspective of “what we might call the concept of ‘living tradition.’ That is, within Israel's history we can readily discern several different streams of tradition, each originating with an authoritative earlier figure, but elaborated and extended within the immediate circle of that figure's disciples and retained under the name of the originator of the tradition. The Pentateuch is generally recognized to have reached its final form in this way, and the present book of Isaiah to be the work of two or three generations. Just as David was remembered as the originator of a still-growing collection of psalms, so also to Solomon was attributed a sequence of wisdom writings (most notably Proverbs and Ecclesiastes). A close comparison of the Gospels, even of the Synoptic Gospels alone, indicates that there was a basically similar elaboration and extension of the Jesus tradition within the Gospel format. John 21:24 attests to the activity of a circle around the Fourth Evangelist, who had at least some hand in the final form of John's Gospel. The Pastorals can be readily seen in similar terms.” He therefore concludes, “The Pastorals would have been deemed authentically Pauline; therefore, their attribution to Paul would have caused no problem. Already, in this early judgment, the canonical definition of what was and what was not ‘Pauline’ was being determined.”

[4] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 3.1:199, where he says that Paul is “an opponent and persecutor of the community simply because (cf. Rom. 9:4f.) he stands for Israel, for its election and calling, for its mission to the world, for the course and development of its history as the history of salvation, and therefore for the faithfulness which is to be shown to God in the form of the faithfulness of Israel, its obedience to the Law which He has given it and its trust in the promises which He has made to it, in short, for faith in the Word of God which has been spoken and is to be received in and with its existence. He persecutes Christians because he sees that this economy of reconciliation and revelation is questioned, transcended, relativised and outmoded by them, i.e., by their proclamation of the person, work, lordship and authority of the Jesus of Nazareth rejected by Israel and delivered up by it to be crucified, by their declaration of His Messiahship, election, calling and commission, of His history as salvation history, of the demand to obey Him, to trust in the promise given in Him, to believe the Word spoken in His existence.”

[5] Cf. Dunn, “First and Second Timothy and Titus,” NIB IX:794, where he reflects on the “trustworthy saying” that “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” by adding, “Paul had been the worst of these ‘sinners,’ so that the mercy he received could serve as a model of the full sweep of God's patience toward those who were to believe subsequently.” Cf. also W. D. Mounce, Pastoral Epistles, 57: “It is the Jewish rabbinic argument of the harder to the easier (qal wāḥômer): if God’s mercy can extend to someone as sinful as Paul, surely it can reach anyone.”

[6] Cf. Mounce, Pastoral Epistles, 58: “The OT frequently pictures God as being patient with the world, slow to anger and abounding in love (Exod 34:6 …; Num 14:18; Pss 86:15; 103:8; Joel 2:13; Jonah 4:2; cf. Rom 2:4; 9:22; 1 Pet 3:20).”

[7] Cf. also Barth, Church Dogmatics 2.2:31, where he speaks of God’s grace and mercy toward us in terms of God’s great “Yes” to us all, a “Yes” that God says “without any if or but, without any afterthought or reservation, not temporarily but definitively, with a fidelity that is … total and eternal.”

Send Lazarus!

1 Tim. 6:6-19; Lk. 16:19-31[1]

I think most of what the Bible has to say about money falls on deaf ears with us. Money is so much a part of our existence, it seems impossible not to place at least some degree of trust in it. For me, I began learning to trust in money when I was a boy. My parents and grandparents went through the great depression, so they had a lot to say about money. Mainly, money is what keeps you from going destitute. They kept gold coins and jewelry in their safety deposit boxes as security against another catastrophic deflation of currency. My Aunt Ruth gave me a $2 to keep in my wallet at all times so that I would never be “broke.” My grandfather taught me about compound interest and about the importance of putting your money to work before I became a teenager. In a wide variety of ways they reinforced the notion that money is what keeps you from going destitute. They taught me to trust in money.

But I suspect I’m not the only one who has a hard time with our Scripture lessons for today. I think St. Paul’s advice that we who have this world’s goods not set our hopes on “money, which is here today and gone tomorrow” (1 Tim. 6:17, MSG) comes across to us like a Latin mass. We hear the words, and we understand that they’re supposed to be important, but we don’t have a clue what they mean.[2] Our whole way of life is oriented around setting your hopes on money. Which one of us can say that we are not setting our hopes on money—at the very least when it comes to retirement? To some extent, that may not be a bad thing. It’s simply a feature of what it means to live in an economy where currency is the primary means of exchange.

But from another perspective, that can be disastrous.[3] St. Paul said it most plainly (though he is mostly misquoted!): “the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil” (1 Tim. 6:10). Of course, this opens the door to recognizing that it is we who are the problem. Money is just one among many means of exchange in the various economic systems that have come and gone in the world. As such, it can be neutral. But it is our desire for money, and what it represents to us, that is the problem. We look to money as if it were a genie who can make all our wishes come true. In a very real sense, St. Paul wants to warn us that having money is not what gives us true life; rather it is “godliness with contentment” (1 Tim. 6:6). Trusting in God who supplies our needs and being satisfied with what we have is what leads us to the life that is truly worth living.

That’s all well and good, but we still live in this culture where “money makes the world go around!” How can we learn to be satisfied, to be truly content with what we have, given the fact that we live in a world that is so completely oriented around buying and getting more? Perhaps St. Paul gives us a clue here when he instructs those of us who have this world’s goods to “do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share” (1 Tim. 6:18). Sharing generously is a means of learning to be content with what we have. I’m not talking about the token charity that we use to salve our guilty conscience—I’m talking about real generosity. It is a matter of solidarity: letting ourselves “be affected by the suffering of other human beings”; it is a matter of “sharing their pain and tragedy.”[4]

You may be thinking that we’ve gone from the frying pan into the fire, so to speak: How can we have the confidence, the courage, and the faith to do as Paul says—to share what we have generously? Father Abraham tells the rich man that his brothers should listen to Moses and the prophets. We still have Moses and the prophets, but I’m not sure we do any better job hearing them than the rich man or his brothers.[5] We also have Jesus, the apostles, and the saints through the ages, but I think it’s all too easy for us to “bracket” them out of our reality. So what do we have, or perhaps better, whom do we have who can teach us to share what we have generously? Who do we have who can be prophets to us, who can convict us and rebuke us and instruct us and point us toward the life that is truly worth living?

We do have Lazarus. In fact, we have many Lazaruses all around us: the poor, the oppressed and the disenfranchised. But I guess the question we have to ask ourselves is whether they can help us. In the parable from our Gospel lesson, in spite of the fact that the rich man begged for Abraham to “send Lazarus” to help him, Abraham explained that he could not help. We might say that the rich man already had his chance to learn from Lazarus, and he refused. But we still have a chance to learn from the Lazaruses of our world.

So how can the poor, those who suffer injustice and oppression, and those who have been cast out in our world teach us how to share ourselves generously? Well, it seems to me that if we take Jesus seriously when he says, “I was hungry,” then we have to reckon seriously with the possibility that the Lazaruses of our day are the very ones in whom Jesus, the crucified Lord is present.[6] In a very real sense, they become our prophets and apostles, because they bear witness to us about the good news of a God who is present with us in our suffering.[7] They are our prophets and apostles because they teach us that the life that is truly worth living always has been and always will be characterized by compassion and generosity.[8] Although Lazarus could not help the rich man who ignored his plight, I think perhaps he might help us. I think he can point us to the Lazaruses all around us, poor and oppressed and outcast people who represent the God who shares our suffering. And when we take to heart this good news that the “crucified people” around us proclaim, we have the chance to be converted to a life of sharing the suffering of others. When that happens, we have the chance to live the life that is truly worth living.

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[1] © 2010 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 9/26/10 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.

[2] Cf. Wade P. Huie, Jr., “The Poverty of Abundance,” Interpretation 22 (Oct 1968): 403, where he observes, “the biblical word about the poor and the rich can pass by me, for I am not poor and do not feel rich.”

[3] Ralph Wood, “A Passion for Lesser Things (1 Timothy 6:6-19),” The Christian Century (Sept 13-20,1995), 843: “few desires corrupt our hearts more than the desire for financial security.” Cf. also J. D. G. Dunn, “The First and Second Letters to Timothy and the Letter to Titus,” New Interpreter’s Bible XI:828

[4] Jon Sobrino, Where is God?, 19.

[5] Cf. Fred Craddock, Luke, 192-98, where he explains the theological framework that the Pharisees used to justify a “gospel of wealth.” It illustrates the ease with which any of us can turn Scripture into a justification for whatever we want.

[6] Jürgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 127, 129.

[7] Sobrino, Where is God?, 23.

[8] Cf. The Study Catechism: Full Version with Biblical References Approved by the 210th General Assembly (1998), question 16, , which puts this into the framework of the reason for our creation: “God created us to live together in love and freedom” and “to be loving companions of others so that something of God’s goodness may be reflected in our lives.” Cf. also Cf. Huie, “Poverty of Abundance,” 409, where he points out that while Lazarus needed the rich man to provide food and clothing and medicine, the rich man needed Lazarus to teach him “what it means to be human.”

It’s Me, O Lord

Jer. 4:22; Ps 14;1 Tim 1:12-17; Lk 15:1-10[1]

I find it interesting that people, whoever they are, wherever they are, seem always to identify with the “Good Guys.” It doesn’t really matter who the “Bad Guys” are; most of us just automatically view ourselves as different from them. Of course, that makes it convenient for us. If we’re the Good Guys, then we can’t be wrong, can we? If we’re the Good Guys, what we do has to be right, doesn’t it. Yes, it’s very convenient when we can look at the human family and divide out the Bad Guys from the Good Guys, since whoever does the dividing tend to put themselves on the good side. That means that the “others,” those who are different, those who are less than, those who are simply on another “side,” are by definition “bad.”

We have all kinds of names for the Good Guys and the Bad Guys. Whether we divide humanity along the lines of color, or class, or creed (as is so very common), we find all kinds of ways to label ourselves in such a way that we look “good” and others in such a way that they look “bad.” Religions are not exempt from this tendency to identify “us”—whoever “us” may be—as the Good Guys and “them” as Bad Guys—or at least not as “good” as we are. In the Christian faith, we are the “People of God,” whereas others are “Non-believers.” But how do we know that there is not something or someone in which or in whom they believe? The reality is that once “we” start identifying anyone who is “other” as an “unbeliever” or a “heretic” or an “infidel,” the door is wide open for “us” to assume that we’re on God’s side. In everything and in every way.

Take, for example, our Psalm for today. The Psalmist clearly speaks of the “others” when he rails against the “fools” who “say there is no God.” Even when he says, “The LORD looks down from heaven on humankind to see if there are any who are wise, who seek after God. They have all gone astray, they are all alike perverse; there is no one who does good, no, not one” (Ps. 14:2-3), he clearly has these “fools,” the “others,” in mind. He makes a clear distinction between the “fools” against whom he directs his rebuke and “God’s people” who are “the righteous” (Ps. 14:4-5).

If we stopped there, we could very easily feel quite satisfied with ourselves. If we’re the “We” in the “Us versus Them,” then we’re “God’s people,” the “righteous” who can look forward to God’s salvation. But if we compare the lesson from Jeremiah for today, “We” are in for a shock. There, the prophet rails not (only) against the “others” but also against “God’s people.” Listen for the word of the Lord: “For my people are foolish, they do not know me; they are stupid children, they have no understanding. They are skilled in doing evil, but do not know how to do good” (Jer. 4:22). Wait a minute. If they are “God’s people,” they have to be the Good Guys. They have to be on the right side, doing the right things. But the prophet in the name of the Lord strips away the pretense of self-righteousness by pointing directly at “God’s people” as the one who are in the wrong. And so crumbles the whole façade that the “Good Guys” are “God’s people” and the “Bad Guys,” are the “sinners.”[2] The inescapable truth is that it is we who have gone astray.

If we want further evidence that our neat division of people into categories falls apart in God’s realm, we should look at the Apostle Paul. Now, in this day and time, Paul is not just an ordinary human being. He is “Saint Paul.” He is “the Apostle Paul.” So our very language about Paul prejudices us from the outset. But listen to what he had to say about himself at the end of his life: “I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence” (1 Tim. 1:13). Paul—the Apostle who had served the church for some 20 years at the time of writing this letter, says he “acted ignorantly in unbelief,” and that he was the “foremost” of sinners (1 Tim. 1:15). And yet, this very same Paul, a self-confessed blasphemer (!), a self-confessed oppressor of God’s people (cf. Ps. 14:4!), and a self-confessed man of violence, says that in and through Jesus the Christ he received mercy. Now, so that we don’t make the mistake of thinking this is some kind of one-time exception, Paul says in fact that this is the whole point of all that God was doing in and through Jesus Christ: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” (1 Tim. 1:15)!

In fact, this very notion is the focus of Jesus’ debate with the Jewish leaders. They saw themselves as “God’s people,” as “the righteous,” as the “Good Guys.” And yet, here was Jesus hanging out with “tax collectors and sinners!” Believe me, in the eyes of Jesus’ opponents, the tax collectors were the ultimate “Bad Guys!” But Jesus insisted that God’s plan is to seek out those who are lost—those who need forgiveness for something horrible they may have done; those who need acceptance by someone in this world; those who just want a fresh start in life—and then to generously give it to them![3] Like any shepherd who leaves the sheep who are safe to look for the one that went astray, God looks for us—all of us—as long as it takes to find us. Like a widow turning her house upside down looking for ten percent of all stood between her and being destitute, God is that diligent and that passionate about seeking out those who have gone astray and transforming their lives with grace and mercy and faith and hope and love. And what happens when one person returns to the fold? All heaven rejoices (Lk. 15:7, 10)!

Even so, it may be hard for us to admit that we might not be as “good” as we’d like to think we are.[4] It is incredibly difficult to admit that we are the ones who have gone astray, that we are the ones who do wrong, that we are the ones who do not truly seek God. What happens when we take the risk of admitting that we have gone astray? We might think it would be humiliation and shame. But in fact, when we admit this—at least to ourselves—we find it liberating, not humiliating. We’re taking the first step toward a fresh start. The amazing irony is that when we admit that it is we who have gone astray, we find God’s mercy overflowing to give us new life.

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[1] © 2010 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 9/12/10 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.

[2] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ, 112-116.

[3] Cf. Shirley Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 105: “God makes the first move, loving before people ask for love or even acknowledge their need for it. Long before we seek and turn to God, God seeks us out and turns to us.” Cf. also Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 2.1:278, where he speaks of “the miracle of the almighty love of God” in that “the love of God always throws a bridge over the crevasse.”

[4] Cf. Emil Brunner, Dogmatics, III: 208, where he quotes Martin Luther’s sermon on Peter’s denial: “No article of faith is harder to believe than the article which states, ‘I believe in the forgiveness of sins’.”