Showing posts with label Book of Jeremiah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book of Jeremiah. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Plans


Plans
Psalm 145:1-10; Jeremiah 23:1-6[1]
Over the course of the last 40 years, I’ve taken a number of personality inventories. It’s something that most denominations require pastoral candidates to do. I guess some folks must think pastors may be “crazy.” Imagine that! If you’ve ever taken personality inventories, you know that they measure things like whether you like being around people, how you process information, and how you make decisions. One of them measures whether you like structure or whether you prefer to improvise. You will probably not be surprised to learn that I like structure. I’m a “planner.” I think I’ve shared with you the fact that, at the ripe age of 31, as a new Seminary professor I proceeded to plan the next 30 years of my career. Needless to say, my life didn’t unfold “according to plan.”
If we’re honest about it, I think most of us would have to admit that our plans for our lives don’t turn out the way we envision them when we are young. I think it’s just a fact of life: we mortal beings predict the future rather poorly. And yet, we make our plans. That’s not a bad thing. I think the problem comes when we hold tightly to our plans as if our very lives depended on them. When that happens, we can behave in ways that aren’t very constructive: we can become tense, rigid, selfish, and even at times mean and bitter. Planning is a good thing, as long as we have the wisdom to hold our plans loosely.
The people of Judah whom the prophet Jeremiah addressed were definitely not living out their lives “according to plan.” They had been torn away from their homes, uprooted from their land, and forced to live in the last place on earth they wanted to be—Babylon, modern day Iraq. The temple in Jerusalem lay in ruins, and with it, their faith that God would never let an enemy army destroy them. I would imagine they felt their lives were over.
It’s not that Jeremiah didn’t warn them. Like other prophets of his time, Jeremiah confronted the people of Judah with the fact that they had been “faithless” (Jer. 3:12) toward God. They had given themselves over to the worship of false gods. They had broken the covenant with God with their blatant disobedience. In spite of that, they assured themselves that they were safe because they believed that Temple and the throne of David would protect them (Jer. 7:4).
In our lesson from Jeremiah for today, the prophet lays much of the blame at the feet of the “shepherds” of the Lord’s people. In other words, the leaders: both the religious and political leaders, both priests and kings. In this, Jeremiah reflected a theme that is found in the books of Kings and Chronicles: as the leaders went, so went the people. When the leaders did what was right in the sight of the Lord, the people did also, and all was well. When the leaders did what was evil in the sight of the Lord, so did the people, to their mutual ruin. Of course, life isn’t always that cut and dried. But in the case of Judah, Jeremiah made it clear that the “shepherds” were the ones responsible for scattering the flock and driving them away into exile.
Despite the seemingly hopeless situation, the Lord promised through Jeremiah that he would gather them from the foreign land and bring them back. He would raise up leaders who would truly shepherd the people. And most importantly, he would raise up a king who would practice righteousness, and bring safety to both Judah and Israel. In another chapter, the Lord promises through Jeremiah that “surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope” (Jer. 29:11). Although their lives had not gone according to their plan, the prophet Jeremiah assured them that God still had plans for them.
And yet, the fact of the matter was that they were going to have to live out their lives in exile, far away from anything they knew to be “home.” The people who had been taken captive to Babylon would not live to see the return to their own land. That’s why Jeremiah gave them some very practical advice. Instead of wasting their lives in grief over broken dreams and unfulfilled hopes, he instructed them to build homes, get married, and have children, and to see that their children built homes, got married and had children (Jer. 29:5-6). The lives they had may not have looked much like their plans, but they could still find meaning and purpose in the lives they were given.
Our confession of faith today affirms that there is nothing that can happen to us that “God does not bend finally to the good.” I would imagine that plenty of us have been through experiences that make that hard to swallow, let alone believe. When that happens, I think we need more than just the shallow comfort that “it’s for the best,” or “it’s God’s will.” We need to know that God will not abandon us, and our lives still have meaning.
When all of our plans have been thwarted, we need a way to hold on to the confidence that God truly is the one who “keeps faith forever.” We need something to reassure us those words mean something real to us right here and now. The real challenge when it seems that all is lost is how to see that our lives still have meaning and purpose. We need the courage to hold onto the faith that, even when our plans fail, God promises to fulfill “plans for our welfare …, to give us a future with hope.”




[1] © 2018 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 7/29/2018 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, August 07, 2018

Changed from Within


Changed from Within
Jeremiah 31:31-34; John 12:32[1]
When I was in High School in the 1970’s, we still had a fairly strict dress code. Girls couldn’t wear skirts or shorts that didn’t reach as long as their fingertips. Guys had restrictions on the length of their hair, and they definitely couldn’t wear any facial hair. And there was no way that anyone could show up to school with clothes that had holes in them! I realize that hasn’t changed much in some places. But then as now, when Summer comes, most students wear whatever they want. I grew my hair out as long as my parents would let me get away with. The school rules really don’t affect how students dress when they are away from school. But then the fact of the matter is that those kinds of external rules have very little impact on what a person chooses to do on their own.
That’s why it’s so important to teach your children values in a way that they internalize them. It takes more than a “do as I say, not as I do” approach. Most of us who have much gray on our heads know that children are going to do what they see. And it’s essential not only to model the behaviors you want to encourage in your children, but also to give them boundaries that make sense. The values tend to stick when we help them understand why those behaviors are important. When they find the motivation within themselves to follow a certain code of behavior, they’re much more likely to actually practice that way of life.
That was one of the problems that the people of Israel had always faced. They had been given God’s torah, God’s instructions about how to live. But it would seem that they never really embraced the principles they had been taught. And so the prophets of the day declared that they were going to be sent into exile in Babylon. Now, it’s easy to think that this was just the “Old Testament” God being angry and vengeful and punishing. But the truth is that even in the Hebrew Bible, the judgments that came upon the people of Israel were intended to bring them back to God. They were “tough love” in action, and as a number of prophets indicated, it broke God’s heart when that happened.
The prophet Jeremiah was called to declare the word of the Lord to a people undergoing judgment, living in exile. They had lost everything, and may have felt that God had given up on them. But Jeremiah’s message was something they may not have expected. He promised them in the name of the Lord that God was going to make some changes that may have been hard for them to imagine. Instead of an arrangement that depended on whether the people followed “external” rules, Jeremiah said to them in the name of the Lord that God would make a whole new covenant with them. And that new covenant would depend solely upon God’s unfailing love and unshakeable faithfulness. 
But perhaps, equally as important was the fact that this relationship would be one in which God would change the people themselves from within. Jeremiah says in the name of the Lord, “I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts … .  No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, ‘Know the LORD,’ for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the LORD” (Jer. 31:33-34). God would transform them into people who were so changed from within that they would want nothing more than to love God with all their hearts and to love their neighbors as themselves. In a very real sense, it would give a whole new meaning to the promise that “I will be their God and they will be my people” (Jer. 31:33).
I believe our Gospel lesson for today also relates to this promise. It’s a very different setting, with Jesus responding to certain Greeks seeking him out, and seeing that as the sign that his time was at hand. And what was going to come to pass was going to change everything. As Jesus puts it, “I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (Jn. 12:32). Now, on the surface of things, that might not sound so earth-shaking. The next verse seems to almost downplay what Jesus said by interpreting it as indicating the kind of death he was going to undergo—death on a cross. But I would say there’s much more than that going on in this statement. I think Jesus was indicating not only the kind of death he faced, but also the far-reaching effects of that death.
As a result of his death on the cross, Jesus says that he will “draw all people” to himself. If you think about it, how do you “draw” another person to yourself? Somehow you have to do something that changes the way they feel about you so that they want to be near you. In Jesus’ case, I think he’s talking about how his death on the cross would change all things and all people. In the context of John’s Gospel, this reflects the power of God’s love poured out in Jesus Christ. It seems to me that only God’s love is powerful enough to change us all from within.
Real change is incredibly difficult for most of us.   We have to be willing to take a hard look at ourselves.  Unfortunately, many of us don’t like what we see when we look that closely, so we don’t look and we don’t change. But the promise of change that our Scripture lessons present is more than a self-help project. They promise that God is determined to change us all from within. They promise that God will take the initiative, working to bring his grace and mercy and love into all our lives. And the end result is that we will want to live our lives in a relationship in which he is our God and we are his people. We will want to love God with all our hearts and love those around us truly and sincerely. And we will do so because God is changing us from within.


[1] ©2018 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 3/18/2018 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, January 07, 2014

Reflecting Light

Reflecting Light
Jer. 31:7-14; Jn. 1:1-18[1]
  There are a lot of people you meet in life who simply radiate gratitude.  Like children, their actions, their words, even the look on their faces and in their eyes conveys a fundamental joy.  But that’s not always the case.  It’s become more socially acceptable to complain than to be “radiant over the goodness of the LORD” (Jer. 31:12), as the prophet puts it.  Criticizing someone or something demonstrates that you’re sophisticated, that you think about things more deeply than the average person, and that you’re not prone to being gullible.  If there’s an unforgivable sin in our culture, it’s being too gullible.  You might as well paint a target on your back that says “kick me.”
  And yet, in response to the “indescribable gift” of God’s “surpassing grace” that we have received in Christ (cf. 2 Cor 9:14-15), it would seem that there is no other fitting response than to be thankful.  When you look at all that the prophet Jeremiah promised the Lord would do for his people, it’s no wonder he expected them to be radiant with joy. Instead of exile they were going to be gathered home, instead of weeping they would find themselves consoled by God, instead of languishing in a foreign land they would live in their own homes and enjoy all the grain and wine and oil they need.  The prophet was promising them that one day God would ransom the people of Israel from captivity, from “hands too strong” for them (Jer. 31:11).[2]  As one modern-day prophet observes, our lesson from Jeremiah provides “a picture of overwhelming, over-the-top grace.”[3]
  If there’s one word in the New Testament that summarizes the gift that God has given to us in his son our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ, it’s grace.  And so it comes as no surprise to us when our lesson from John’s Gospel says that the light that those first Christians saw in Jesus was “the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth” (Jn. 1:14).  He goes on to elaborate: “From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace” (Jn. 1:16).[4] 
  Because we’ve heard words like this from the Bible so many times, it’s easy for us to overlook the fact that John’s Gospel goes “over the top” to describe the gift we have received in Jesus the Christ.  That phrase “grace upon grace” gets lost in our hearing. Our translations have a hard time putting it in words.  Some of them, like the NIV and the NLT, render it with “one blessing after another.” I like Gene Peterson’s translation in The Message: “We all live off his generous bounty, gift after gift after gift.”  In the very first chapter of John’s Gospel, the meaning is clear: Jesus comes to us as the one who brings God’s grace.  And he brings so much of it that all you can call it is “grace piled on top of grace.”[5] 
  John’s Gospel uses other words like light and truth and life to describe the gifts Jesus brought to us.  But there’s one very important aspect of this gift that is clear in John’s Gospel: the gift that Jesus brought to us was the good news that we are God’s children. In part, this is due to the fact that because God is our creator, we all are God’s children.  No one who has ever lived or who will ever live is excluded from this good news. But there’s another level to being a “child of God” in our Scripture readings for today. 
  There is the sense in our lessons for today that our experience of  “grace piled on top of grace” is meant to produce in us a reflection of that grace in the way we live our lives.  In Jeremiah’s day, he anticipated that those who benefitted from God’s “gift after gift after gift” would be “radiant over the goodness of the LORD” (Jer. 31:12).  They would reflect the gratitude and joy that would be the only fitting response to the amazing grace God was going to lavish on them.  And in Paul’s day, the idea that the believers were chosen by God to be his children meant that they were to “live for the praise of his glory” (Eph. 1:12).  And that brings us back to our gospel lesson: we who have “seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth” (Jn. 1:14) are to reflect that glory in our lives as his children.[6] 
  It seems to me that the ultimate gratitude for the “indescribable gift” God has given to us in the birth of the Christ child is to reflect the light that we have been given.  Our world still has plenty of darkness in it.  One of the primary ways in which the light of Christmas shines in this world is through us!  Part and parcel of the good news that we celebrate is our calling to be children of God, children who reflect the light that has come into our lives and has given us a new way of living, one full of hope and joy and peace and love.[7]


[1] © 2014 Alan Brehm.  A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 1/5/2014 at First Presbyterian Church of Dickinson, TX.
[2] Cf. Patrick D. Miller, “The Book of Jeremiah,” New Interpreters Bible VI: 813, “The promise of return to the promised land is one of the many instances in which God’s deliverance is seen to belong to the very real and material world of human existence in time and space and not only to a spiritual realm. ... The image of returning home as a salvific act is so powerful that it comes to have a spiritual dimension as well, through the images of pilgrimage, of looking for a city without foundations, whose builder and maker is God. ... The return to the land long ago promised is a return home, and it is a return to the place of security, the place where the means to life can be found.”   Cf. similarly, R. E. Clements, Jeremiah, 185: “Israel does not and cannot exist in and of itself.  It exists as a people only as the outward expression of a decision of divine love.  Because that love does not and cannot cease, so will Israel’s existence and restoration in the future be assured.”
[3] Christine D. Pohl, “Homeward Bound,” The Christian Century (Dec. 27, 2005): 19.  Cf. also Miller, “Book of Jeremiah,” NIB VI:815: “Surely there is no more powerful or extravagant depiction of the Lord’s future provision of the good of the people than that of 31:10-14. It is an invitation to a party the likes of which this people have never known. It is a homecoming party, with all the good things parties are meant to have: the best food and wine, music and singing and dancing. It is intergenerational and full of fun and merriment. And it goes on forever. The picture of a marvelous party, where all are gathered before the Lord to enjoy all the benefits of God’s goodness and celebrate in joy and singing and dancing, is a way of connecting the vision of the future with the reality of the present.”
[4] Cf. Gail R. O’Day “The Gospel of John” New Interpreters Bible IX:524, “The Word becoming flesh is the decisive event in human history—indeed, in the history of creation—because the incarnation changes God’s relationship to humanity and humanity’s relationship to God. The incarnation means that human beings can see, hear, and know God in ways never before possible.”  She adds (p. 526), “The joyous witness of the Prologue is spoken by those whose own experience has been decisively marked by the incarnation. John 1:14-18 is not theological speculation about the character of the incarnate Word, but the testimony of those whose lives have been changed by the incarnation.”
[5] Cf. Pohl, “Homeward Bound,” 19. Cf. also Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 4.3.1:236: “It is, therefore, the love which is in God Himself, which goes forth and breaks into the world in the existence of the man Jesus, .... He reveals Himself as the One in whom this affirmation of the world takes place, ..., the fulness of life, so that what He gives and what is received from Him is absolutely unequivocally and exclusively grace, “grace and truth” (1:14, 17), “grace for grace” (1:16), inexhaustible, victorious grace which can be followed only by more grace.  Cf. also Ernst Haenchen, John: A Commentary on the Gospel of John, 120: “the community that speaks this way is conscious of living out of grace that is forever being renewed.”
[6] Cf. Barth, Church Dogmatics 2.2:429: “the Church as such, and every individual in the Church in his own place and manner, becomes a bearer and proclaimer of” the “loving-kindness of God realised and revealed in Him.”
[7] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Coming of God, 337-38: “In joy over the open fulness of God, out of which we receive not just ‘grace upon grace’ but also—as we can now say—life upon life, the life we live here and now is already transfigured and becomes a festive life, life in celebration.”

Wednesday, December 01, 2010

The One who Sets Things Right

Jer 23:1-6[1]

We live in a world where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.[2] We live in a world where money makes the world go around, where might makes right and the race doesn’t always go to the one who deserves it. We live in a world governed by people elected not necessarily because they are the most qualified for the job, but because they have the slickest campaign. We live in a world where billionaires buy off representatives and senators in order to ensure that they keep getting a bigger slice of the pie.[3] And we live in a world where the ones who control the army also get to control aid money worth billions—funds intended to help the ones who have no food, no clean water, and improper sanitation, but that all too often end up enriching those who hold the purse strings.

Most of this is beyond dispute as a description of “the way it is.” My question, as we approach a time of year when we look for something better coming, is simple: why? Why, when the reality of injustice and violence and oppression and suffering is so obvious all around us, do we think we should look for something better? After all, some spiritual leaders will tell you that the only way to successfully manage our lives is to accept reality as it is. Wanting something different from what we have is a prescription for perpetual unhappiness and dissatisfaction. The way to “get along” is to “go along” with the way things are.

But there is a voice deep within us that simply will not let us go there—not without a fight. Not without the gut-wrenching stress of trying to live in denial of what we know to be the truth. Or not without generous doses of chemical anesthetics designed to make us feel nothing at all. The voice within us tells us the way things are is not the way things ought to be. In fact, whether we like it or not, sometimes that voice screams at us to get us to pay attention to what has gone wrong in our world. Down deep inside, we know that we were not made for the injustice and violence and oppression and suffering that define our world.

In a very real sense, I think it was that same voice that drove the prophets of ancient Israel to proclaim so loudly that the injustice that was rampant in the courts of the king would lead to the nation’s downfall. At least part of the reason for that was because the prophets also had one eye on the covenant Israel had made with their God—a covenant that included stipulations for all people to have an equal access to the means of making a living, a covenant that included the command to welcome the immigrant and the wanderers and the strangers, a covenant that included the demand to care for the weakest in society—those who were impoverished, who were forsaken, and who were excluded from the structures of life.[4]

When the prophets looked at the reality of the way the “covenant people” lived, what they saw appalled them. It wasn’t much different from our reality—the wealthy continued to get richer at the expense of the poor. The upper class indulged in conspicuous luxuries while the vast majority of people lacked basic necessities. The powerful took every possible advantage to gain more power, more wealth, and more land, not thinking twice about whom they were exploiting or enslaving or even murdering.

And right in the middle of all of this injustice, all this violence and oppression, all this suffering, sat the King. Now what we have to understand about the Kings of Israel and Judah is that they were intended to be representatives of God’s reign over the people. They were the ones who were supposed to ensure that all people were treated fairly, that they were free from violence and oppression, and that they were able to thrive in their daily living. They were supposed to be “shepherds” to the people—protecting them, caring for them, ensuring they had their needs met. But the reality of the Kings of Israel and Judah is that, more often than not they were complicit in the injustice that wracked the land, if not the very instigators in the first place.

And because the prophets had one eye on the covenant and the justice God intended for the people, and the other eye on the ones who were supposed to promote and maintain that justice but consistently failed to do so, they began to speak of one who was to come.[5] This one would be a true shepherd, not like the false “shepherds” who exploited the flock. This one would enact true justice, not the usurpation of power and wealth that masqueraded as justice. This one would bring true peace, peace that made it possible for all of them to thrive, not just the top 1% of the upper class, the richest of the rich. This one would be called “The Lord is our righteousness” (Jer. 23:6, NRSV), or “Yahweh is our saving justice” (NJB) or “God-Who-Puts-Everything-Right” (The Message)! The prophets were looking for the true king—the one we await during the season of Advent.

I don’t believe that is merely so much wishful thinking, or that it is foolish and positively harmful to look for this one who will set things right. I think looking for something better is wired into us at the very core of our being. Then as now, for those of us who will listen to that voice of conscience within us, it is plain as the nose on your face that the way things are is not the way things ought to be. And that leads us inevitably to look for something better—or perhaps in this case someone better. Someone who will instead oversee all who live and all of creation (no exceptions!) in a way that brings joy and peace and life to us all.[6]



[1] © 2010 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 11/21/10 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.

[2] Cf. Timothy Noah, “The United States of Inequality,” published Sept. 3, 2010 at http://www.slate.com/id/2266025/entry/2266026.

[3] Cf. Jane Mayer, “Covert Operations,” The New Yorker Aug. 30, 2010; accessed at http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2010/08/30/100830fa_fact_mayer.

[4] Cf, Patrick D. Miller, “The Book of Jeremiah,” New Interpreters Bible VI:745, where he points out that the benchmark for justice was “the weakest members of the community, the powerless and the marginalized, the economically depressed and the vulnerable.” He adds, by contrast (p. 746), “We tend to turn the matter on its head and assume that the good society is one that allows those with economic means to hold on to them and not worry too much about those who have nothing.”

[5] Cf. Pheme Perkins, “The Magic Kingdom,” The Christian Century Nov. 22, 1989:1083, who says, “The rule of justice and peace will not be created by the political configurations of the present age. They have already been condemned by God for destroying what should be protected.”

[6] Our Confession of 1967 puts it this way: “It is the will of God that his purpose for human life shall be fulfilled under the rule of Christ and all evil be banished from his creation.”

These are the Days

2 Tim. 3:14-17; Jer 31:31-34; Lk 18:1-8[1]

If you watch any TV at all, you are well aware that we have a whole bunch of elections just around the corner. You may be tired of hearing about it. And if you are following any of this, you know that candidates from all sides of the political field are promising to change things. I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that we’ve been promised so many changes, I’ve stopped believing all of them. What’s more, it’s easy for me to want to just give up on the whole sorry mess. But you know as well as I do that giving up isn’t the answer. For one reason or another, we keep trying to work for change, year in and year out, even though it sometimes seems like nothing ever changes in the way this world works.

Last week we talked about how we can count on God to always be there for us as a supportive presence. But if you’re like me, in times like these you may want more than a “supportive presence” from our God—you may want change, real change, change we can see in the world around us and in our own lives. Unfortunately, the notion of God actually intervening in our lives is complicated. Some people believe God is always working in miraculous and supernatural ways. Others believe that God isn’t capable of changing anything in our world. We see this view reflected especially in people who have suffered unspeakable atrocities, people like Elie Wiesel. And because they have suffered so much, we must always remind ourselves to treat them with utmost respect—especially when it comes to their loss of faith. Elie Wiesel was studying the Talmud and Kabbalah when he began his journey through the horror of the Nazi concentration camps, including Auschwitz and Buchenwald. As a result, Wiesel concluded that God is impotent, helpless, unable to prevent injustice and violence, unable to really make a difference for those who place their faith in God.[2]

I think it’s likely at least some of the people Jeremiah addressed must have felt that way. Everything that meant anything to them was gone. I could imagine they were asking whether God was anything more to them than a “supportive” but ultimately powerless presence. And Jeremiah looked at the people in exile, with all their doubts and discouragement, and said to them in the name of the Lord, “the days are coming.” Days of restoration—to their homeland and the lives they had left behind. Days of rebuilding—homes and families and communities. Days of returning—returning to hope and faith and joy.

But more than just giving them their lives back, Jeremiah’s message was that God had in store something hard to imagine: a whole new relationship with God. Instead of an arrangement where God’s actions on their behalf depended to some degree on their fidelity and obedience, Jeremiah said to them in the name of the Lord that “the days are coming” when God would make a whole new arrangement—one that depends solely upon God’s unfailing love and unshakeable faithfulness. This relationship would be one in which God would actually make some changes—beginning with transforming the people of faith into people who want nothing more than love God with all their hearts and to honor God with their lives. Jeremiah, in the name of the Lord, promised a whole new way of understanding “I will be their God and they will be my people” (Jer. 31:33).[3]

How could this happen? What magic would be able to take these people—flawed and fallible people like you and me; in fact probably just like you and me—and turn them into “instant saints”? Well, in some contexts, the prophets and apostles spoke of it as a transformation by the Spirit, something intangible and even to some extent perhaps even hard to trace.[4] In our NT lesson for today, St. Paul takes a more “pragmatic” approach: He suggests that it is the Scriptures themselves that are the tool God uses to make us “wise for salvation” (2 Tim. 3:15); they are the means by which we are trained in “righteousness” and become “competent” for the work we are called to fulfill.

Whatever the means—more tangible or more spiritual—it’s clear that prophets and apostles and saints throughout the ages have looked to God for more than just a “supportive presence” in answer to all that is so troubling about our world. And they have been bold to promise in the name of the Lord that the “days are coming” when God’s presence will transform the people of faith, along with all humankind and the whole of creation. In fact, in many cases they have been bold to declare that “these are the days” when God is fulfilling the promise to fill the whole earth with the life-giving knowledge of God, with God’s saving justice that makes it possible for everyone to thrive together, with God’s shalom that brings life.

With this in mind, we can take the lesson of Jesus’ parable to heart—we can find the faith not to lose heart in the face of all that is wrong with our world. We can face it confidently, knowing that God is in the process of changing things. In the parable Jesus calls it “giving vindication” (Lk. 18:7-8). But that’s not punishment or vengeance, but rather God’s gracious work of setting things right again. Restoring the land and their lives, rebuilding homes and families and communities, returning us all to hope and faith, renewing the joy of living. We can return to the task of working for change in our world inspired by the vision that there will come a time when God’s “commonwealth of peace and freedom” will be more than just a hope and a dream; it will define all life on the face of the earth. It may seem hard to imagine, let alone believe,[5] but we can take comfort in the assurance these are the days when God is changing everything. And God is beginning that process of renewal by transforming us.


[1] © 2010 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 10/17/10 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.

[2] See Elie Wiesel, Night, where he recounts his horrific experience.

[3] R. E. Clements, Jeremiah, 191: “what is promised is not so much a radically different covenant but a renewed form of the earlier, broken covenant.”

[4] Clements, Jeremiah, 190: “Although the word ‘spirit’ is not used, the implication is certainly that God’s Spirit will move the hearts of Israel to be obedient to the divine law.” Compare Ezekiel 36:24-28.

[5] Tillich, “Behold, I Am Doing a New Thing” in The Shaking of the Foundations, 182: “The new being is born in us, just when we least believe in it.”

Count On It

2 Tim 2:11-13; Jer. 29:4-7; Ps 66:12[1]

It’s hard to know what you can count on these days. You might expect that from a cynic like me. But when you look around, so much of what we have counted on seems to have fallen by the wayside. Here’s one for you—“stay in school and you’ll get a better job.” Well, that works up to a certain extent. But it’s a little disconcerting when the guy asking you if you want fries with your burger is wearing a button that says, “Ask me about my Ph. D.” How about, “all for one and one for all”? No, I wouldn’t count on that either. Seems it’s more “every man for himself” these days. What about “until death do us part”? Nope—I don’t think you can count on that either in this day and time.

Here’s one that we should all agree you can count on: “I will never fail you nor forsake you.” If you can’t count on God, who can you count on? I think the answer is that it depends on what your “counting on.” If you’re “counting on” God to make your dreams come true, you may find yourself disappointed. In fact, I think it’s all but certain you will find yourself disappointed.

So where does that leave us in relation to God? It belongs to the heart of the Bible’s witness that God is faithful—that God keeps all promises. I think our lesson from 2 Timothy affirms that faith: “if we are faithless, he remains faithful—for he cannot deny himself.” I think that means we can count on God to continue to love us, to help us, to always be there for us as a supporting presence—even in the worst of times, even if we are at times “faithless” (2 Tim. 2:13).[2]

Now, many in the history of the church have understood this “promise” more in terms of a warning than an assurance: they think it means that if we fall short or lose heart or in some way undermine the faith, God will remain true to himself by punishing us accordingly![3] After all, it does say, “if we deny him, he will deny us”! But whatever “denying” and being “denied” means in this context, it has to take into account the fact that Peter specifically “denied” Jesus three times, and yet he was not “denied” but restored! [4] Even that kind of “denial” didn’t consign him to eternal condemnation. Perhaps that’s the point—even if we go to the extent of denying Christ the way Peter did, God’s faithfulness provides a way back for us.[5] Even in that extreme case, we can count on God to remain committed to us.[6]

And yet, we all face times when it seems God has in fact turned his back on us, has in fact denied us, has in fact broken faith with us. I would say that the letter of Jeremiah to the exiles in Babylon was written in one of those times. Some of the Jewish exiles probably gave up hope altogether. Some were so desperate for fulfill all their presumptions that they deluded themselves with false hopes. As it turns out, there were “so-called” prophets who were stirring up the exiles with the idea that “any day now we will be on our way home.” But Jeremiah says, “Build homes, get married, have children. See that your children build homes, get married and have children.”[7] Jeremiah believed that they would be in exile a lot longer than they wanted to be.

But he also pointed them to the hope that, in the midst of the mundane routines of life in foreign exile, they could find God’s peace. Despite all their disappointed hopes and dreams, they might just find themselves having the experience recounted by the Psalmist. After going through fire and water, just when they may have thought their life was over, God brought them to a “spacious place”—a place where, much to their own surprise and contrary to their expectations they could find peace.[8] It wasn’t where they thought they would live out their lives, but it was a place where they could thrive.

It may sound harsh to say it, but we cannot count on God to make all our dreams come true, or to live up to all our presumptions about what our life is supposed to look like. I think one of the lessons that so often eludes Christians in our day and age is that there is a vast difference between faith and presumption. Presumption makes our loving creator and redeemer into a “God-in-the-box” who gives us everything we want. Faith entrusts oneself to Gods loving care because of a conviction that God is trustworthy. Even when we find ourselves in a place we didn’t want to be, if we can let go our expectations and accept the grace to thrive in surprising places, we may discover that we can count on God never to forsake us, to see us through whatever comes our way, to bring us to the “spacious place” where we can thrive. [9]



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

[2] Cf. Martin Dibelius and Hans Conzelmann, The Pastoral Epistles, 109; cf. also William Mounce, Pastoral Epistles, 517-18, 520.

[3] See, notably, John Calvin, Commentary on the Epistles to Timothy, Titus, and Philemon, 219.

[4] This is a difficult phrase, and it doesn’t seem to fit the rest of 2 Tim. 2:11-13, which encourages Timothy and others to endure hardship for the sake of the Gospel. Hanna Roose, “Sharing in Christ's Rule: Tracing a Debate in Earliest Christianity,” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 27.2 (2004): 143-146, makes a convincing argument that “denying” relates to the promise of eternal reward for martyrdom.

[5] I think our understanding of this passage also has to take into consideration the fact that God has responded to “the apostasy of the creature” with grace, not condemnation. See Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 2.1:506-512

[6] Cf. J. D. G. Dunn, “The First and Second Letters to Timothy and the Letter to Titus,” New Interpreter’s Bible XI:844, where he refers to the tradition rooted in Judaism that “God remained faithful to the chosen people, even when they proved faithless time and time again.” In that light, it makes sense to conclude with him that “denying” is a deliberate and determined action, not simply a failure of nerve.

[7] William L. Holladay, Jeremiah 2, 138 and G. L. Keown, P. J. Scalise, and T. G. Smithers, Jeremiah 26-52, 80, see in this the promise of God’s grace in exile.

[8] Cf. H.-J. Kraus, Psalms 60-150, 38, where he suggests that it is precisely this work of liberation that constitutes the “great deeds” with which the “whole earth is filled” according to Ps. 66.

[9] Cf. Patrick Miller, “The Book of Jeremiah,” New Interpreter’s Bible VI:795: where he says that the Lord’s peace (shalom) often “will not fit what we expect or want.”

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Keeping Up Appearances

Jer. 8:18-9:1; Lk. 16:1-13[1]

I find it interesting that, when our life in these United States fails to live up to our expectations, we inevitably ask, “Where is God?” It seems to me that question makes some pretty grand assumptions—that somehow this country is different from all the other nations and states and kingdoms that have come and gone in the history of the world. And it assumes that somehow God has a stake in whether or not this nation thrives. It seems to me that one of the biggest pitfalls in this way of thinking is that because we make a show of piety with our god-talk we expect God to look after us and protect us and pour out blessings on us.

This assumption is nothing new. The people of Jeremiah’s day made the same mistake long ago. They believed that God would protect them from any invading army because “the Lord is in Zion” (Jer. 8:19). They may have to endure the humiliation of invasion, but God would ultimately defeat any would-be invader, and Jerusalem would be preserved, because it is the place where God dwells.[2] But all the while, according to the prophet, they were pursuing their own course, one that ran contrary to God’s purposes. Hear the words of the prophet:

“Why, then, have the people of Jerusalem gone the wrong way and not turned back? They believe their own lies and refuse to turn around and come back. I have listened to them very carefully, but they do not say what is right. They do not feel sorry about their wicked ways, saying, ‘What have I done?’ Each person goes his own way, like a horse charging into a battle. Even the birds in the sky know the right times to do things. The storks, doves, swifts, and thrushes know when it is time to migrate. But my people don’t know what the Lord wants them to do.”[3] (Jer 8:5-7, NCV)

Jeremiah proclaimed in the name of the LORD that this smug, self-righteous attitude would be their undoing. The problem was not that they fell short, or stumbled, or made a mistake, but that they intentionally pursued a course of evil “without a tinge of regret.”[4] Time and again, in response to dire warnings of impending doom, the people of Jerusalem tended to ask not, “What have I done?” but, “Where is God?”[5] But that’s way too easy an out! It is too easy for us to blame God when something goes wrong in our world.[6] If there is no ‘balm in Gilead,” no restoration of peace and justice in our world, no healing from the wounds of violence and greed and selfishness and dishonesty, it is not for lack of compassion in God![7]

I think part of the problem is that the preoccupation with keeping up the appearance of holiness blinds us to our shortcomings. The people of Jerusalem were so blinded to their own wrongdoing that they would have had no problem joining the Psalmist in begging for God’s compassion to heal them while praying for God to destroy the heathen in anger (Ps. 79:5-9)! We can see the folly in their mistake, but Jesus gives us one that is much harder to see. I think part of the point of the parable of the dishonest steward is that our difficulty in sorting out the parable makes painfully obvious how accustomed we are to deceit, falsehood, and fraud as a way of life. The reality is that we, like the people of Jeremiah’s day, and Jesus’ day, do not know the justice of the Lord (Jer. 8:7)![8] We, like those who have claimed to be God’s people throughout the ages, are blinded to our own shortcomings by our efforts at keeping up appearances.[9]

It is difficult for most of us to see our own flaws. Sometimes we all need to be pulled up short by someone else and made to see our obvious failings. I had an experience with this when I lived in Europe. The church I attended in Stuttgart carried out a mission to take food to churches in Romania. On the way we spent the night in Budapest with the family of one of our members. Like many people in Europe, the father of the family wanted to talk about the United States. He was particularly concerned with the movies that came from our country. Now, this fellow wasn’t naïve enough to think that our movies accurately depict our society. But the question he asked was, “What kind of people go to see these movies?”

I must say I was taken up short by that question. Things that I as a Christian minister took for granted, he saw in a much different light. Here was a Hungarian Christian who saw movies coming out of our country that glorify violence, that plaster sex without boundaries all over the screen, that make heroes out of villains and buffoons out of traditional role models. And he couldn’t understand how such movies were so popular in a culture that claimed to be Christian. I think his simply straightforward question helped me to see how we engage in the folly of keeping up appearances.

The painful truth is that we are not the people we envision ourselves to be—not always. We do not live up to the convictions we profess to be the basis for our lives—not always. We may be in tune to the “justice of the Lord” in some areas of our lives, but I guarantee that there are others where we are not, and we are clueless about that fact. Jeremiah calls us to ask not “Where is God?” but “What have I done?”—to pull back the veil of our appearance of godliness so that we can find the way to real healing.



[1] © 2010 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 9/19/10 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.

[2] Miller, “The Book of Jeremiah,” New Interpreter’s Bible VI:646, 648; cf. also Ronald Clements, Jeremiah, 60.

[3] Literally, “the justice of the Lord.”

[4] Clements, Jeremiah, 55.

[5] Cf. Miller, “Book of Jeremiah,” NIB VI:649.

[6] Clements, Jeremiah, 58.

[7] Cf. Miller, “Book of Jeremiah,” NIB VI:648: though it is Jeremiah who is putting pen to ink in this lament (so to speak), it is incredibly difficult to sort out Jeremiah’s anguish on behalf of his beloved people from God’s!

[8] Cf. Miller, “Book of Jeremiah,” NIB VI:646: “They do not know the order (mishpat) of the Lord for their lives, an order that is centered in justice (mishpat)” therefore “they also do not know the judgment (mishpat) that is to come into their lives” to restore that order.

[9] Miller, “Book of Jeremiah,” NIB VI:650.