The Waking Dreamer: Chosen

Showing posts with label Chosen. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 12, 2025

Worthy

1 Corinthians 15:1-11[1]

The question of our personal “worthiness” can be a thorny one. Some of us may feel that we’re unworthy at the very core of our being. We may think we don’t even deserve to be here. Others may believe without a doubt that they are deserving, worthy of every opportunity, achievement, and accolade they’ve ever received. And perhaps more! It can be tricky navigating the middle ground between a basic sense of shame over who we are and a fundamental arrogance. Many of us have worked hard throughout our lives, and we have a well-earned right to be appropriately proud of our accomplishments. Others of us have worked hard and have seen all they hoped for slip through their fingers. The question of our “worthiness” as individuals is one that is complicated and fraught with pitfalls. But it’s one that we all must face.

Our scripture lesson from 1 Corinthians for today addresses this question from the perspective St. Paul’s life story. The lesson tells us part of the story of Paul’s calling to serve as an Apostle, proclaiming the good news of Jesus. We might find it strange to hear Paul talking about how he was the “least” of the Apostles, and didn’t even “deserve” to be called an Apostle. When you take a close look at what Paul says about himself in his letters, two things emerge.[2] First, he confessed that all he was and all he was doing was the result of a life-changing encounter with Jesus Christ. When he met the risen and living Lord Jesus on the road to Damascus, it transformed his whole life. Using the language of our lesson, Paul could say that all that he was and all that he was doing was the result of God’s grace at work in and through him. That’s what made Paul’s zeal for following the way of Judaism give way to his conviction that Jesus Christ had chosen him to serve the body of Christ—from “before the foundation of the world” (Eph 1:4)!

The other thing that Paul says about himself is that he was unworthy to be an Apostle. I think a part of this came from the fact that he was always very consciously aware of his failures and shortcomings. Several times he expressed his feeling that, because he had persecuted the church before being called by Jesus, he wasn’t fit to serve as an Apostle. And this wasn’t just initial reluctance on his part. Even toward the end of his life, Paul continued to see himself as unfit to be an Apostle because he had previously “blasphemed the name of Christ” (1 Tim 1:13-15, NLT). But I think the other side of this sense of “unworthiness” on Paul’s part was because he knew in the deepest part of his heart, that “whatever I am now, it is all because God poured out his grace on me” (1 Cor 15:10, NLT). And he knew two things about God’s grace at the same time: there was nothing he could ever do to deserve God’s grace, and he would never have to try to deserve God’s grace. It was all a gift!

I think this applies to the issue I raised last week: how we find the strength and the faith to continue serving others in a challenging time. For myself, I must confess that, like Paul I don’t think I deserve the opportunities I’ve been given. But, like Paul I’m also grateful because I believe it’s all been through God’s grace. Many of the people I grew up with wouldn’t be surprised that I’ve spent most of my life working in ministry. They would consider it a natural outcome of who I am. But it was never something that I would have thought. I came from a nowhere town and a no-name family. Although I knew I was good at school, I never thought of myself as being all that special.

I “volunteered” for ministry at the ripe old age of 17. I’ve always wondered whether God really wanted me or he just “had” to take me because I stepped forward. And, truth be told, I never thought I had what it took to be a pastor. I was quite comfortable in the classroom as a Seminary professor. It was an environment that I knew well, and it was a task that I was confident I had the skills and expertise to carry out. Working as a pastor felt a bit too risky for me. To me it seemed like starting a business from scratch, and I wasn’t sure I wanted go out on a limb like that. In fact, when I was 40 I stepped away from ministry for several years. I tried to move into a parallel career, but only made it more clear to me that serving the body of Christ was where I belong.

When it comes right down to it, however, I would have to say with Paul, “whatever I am now, it is all because God poured out his grace on me.” Like Paul, I have certain gifts and abilities that God has used in my service to the body of Christ. And like Paul I’ve worked diligently to serve to the best of my ability for decades, continuing to “sharpen the saw” to be as effective as I can at what I do. But I would also confess with Paul that “it was not I but God who was [and still is] working through me by his grace.” Like Paul, I would say that, despite my reluctance about whether I am worthy to serve the body of Christ, I believe God chose me from “before the foundation of the world.” God’s grace led me down the path of life that has brought me to this place and time. And, like Paul, “I’m not about to let his grace go to waste.”

I bring this up because I think there are others who may find themselves at places in life where they never thought they would be. And I think most of us would agree that we could never have imagined we would be facing the issues we are today. You may know that I’m a “Lord of the Rings” fan. Throughout the years, I’ve found myself agreeing with Frodo Baggins when, while talking about the rise of evil, he says to Gandalf the wizard, “I wish it need not have happened in my time.” To which Gandalf replies, “So do I … and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”[3] The truth is that none of us gets to choose the backdrop against which we live our lives. We don’t always get to choose the direction our lives take in the circumstances we face. All we get to choose is how we will live our lives right where we are.

Again, if we’re trying to figure out how to keep on serving in circumstances that make it all seem futile, I think we can take our cue from St. Paul. What I didn’t say above is that he faced opposition and criticism of his ministry from the very first. Not just from “enemies” outside the church. Some of the believers in churches he had founded, some of the believers at Corinth, thought that Paul was unworthy to be an Apostle of Jesus Christ. In the face of that fierce opposition, Paul responded in a couple of ways. First, he admitted that he wasn’t worthy in and of himself to represent Jesus Christ. I think it may be healthy to follow his lead in that respect. Not one of us, and especially not me, deserves to serve the body of Christ in the ways we have open to us. But secondly, Paul confessed that all that he was and all that he did was due to God’s grace poured out in his life. I think each and every one of us can make the same humble confession today. We may not understand why we have been placed in this particular time and this particular situation. But we can trust that God will use our gifts and abilities right where we are. And we can draw encouragement from the community of faith that supports us as we seek to use our gifts and abilities where we are. But at the end of the day, God’s grace has called us, God’s grace has brought us to this place, and God’s grace is working in and through us. And that’s all the worthiness we need!

[2] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, III.1.4, 196-211, where he surveys the story of Paul’s change of life from zeal for Judaism to proclaiming Jesus and serving the body of Christ as a prime example of the interaction between the knowledge and ignorance of “the accomplished alteration of the whole world situation” by God through Jesus Christ. Barth argues that this tension between knowledge and ignorance can arise only “to move to it’s overcoming” because “God is not God in vain” (ibid., 191). Of Saul/Paul’s conversion, he says (ibid., 202), “It was in the power of the self-witness of Jesus Christ that he passed from ignorance to knowledge. Jesus Himself met him before Damascus. … . This is the decisive element in the story.”

[3] J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, Houghton, Mifflin, Harcourt, 2004, p. 51

Thursday, August 24, 2023

Exceptional?

Matthew 15:21-28[1]

My generation was raised with the promise that we could do whatever we had it in our imagination to do, and we could be whoever we wanted to be. It was a wonderful encouragement for us as we were growing up. I think I’ve shared with you that in my youthful imagination, I saw myself becoming a Naval Officer. Of course, I think what really drew me to that idea was the fact that I really liked the uniforms. I don’t know if you are aware of this, but they actually have to pay for their own uniforms! They get an allowance, but it doesn’t cover the whole expense. They pay a great deal out of their own pockets. Talk about bursting my imagination!

I think many of us may grow up with the notion that we’re exceptional in some way. Maybe people don’t recognize it, but we’re convinced that if we had the chance, we could do something great with our lives. We believe we’re special, and that we have a “special” role to play in this world. While I would say that each and every one of us is unique and we all make a contribution to life that is irreplaceable, whether or not we get to make as big of a “splash” in the world as we may want isn’t really in our control. As I alluded to last week, I think that sometimes the truly “great” things we can do with our lives may not gain us much recognition.

The Jewish people in Jesus’ day had been taught for centuries that they were special. They were God’s “chosen” people. Unfortunately, they turned that special act of God’s grace into a privilege. They saw themselves as “exceptional,” and looked down on those whom they believed were “beneath” them. And they believed that everyone who wasn’t Jewish was “beneath” them. That attitude caused them to miss the fact that the whole point of their being God’s “chosen” people was so that they might be a “light” to all other people. What God intended as a calling, they mistook for a privilege. And that led them to think that they were “special,” more worthy than all the “others” they looked down on.

This is important background for our gospel lesson for today. When you read it as a straightforward story and assume that Jesus meant what he said to be taken literally, it can be troubling to hear. We’re shocked when this woman, who was a “foreigner” from “Tyre and Sidon” in gentile territory, came begging Jesus for mercy and he ignored her request. Or at least so it would seem. When she fell on her face and worshipped him, he responded by saying “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Mt 15:24). And when she persisted in her faith, and continued to ask for his mercy, instead of helping her he said, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs” (Mt 15:26)!

We overlook the troubling part of this story because we always assume that everything Jesus said was meant to be taken literally. But if we take what Jesus said literally here, he responded to this woman who was in crisis and who came to him in faith asking him to show mercy with some of the harshest words he ever said to anyone! The only other time we hear of Jesus being so harsh is when he cleansed the Temple. And in that case, his motivation was that he was angry that the Jewish religious leaders had taken the one part of the temple where God-fearing gentiles could come to worship the living God and turned it in to a bazaar!

If we take what Jesus said literally, this story stands out like a sore thumb. How could Jesus have been so uncaring, so unkind, so downright mean as to respond to her heartfelt and faith-fueled request for mercy by saying she didn’t “deserve” it because she was a “dog”? That just doesn’t fit with what we know of Jesus elsewhere. He’s the one who looks at the crowds who were “like sheep without a shepherd” and has compassion on them. So much so that he feeds thousands of them in one sitting! He’s the one who has mercy on the ultimate outcasts, lepers, and restores them to health. He’s the one who forgives the thief on the cross and invites him, even as he was dying, to join him in paradise.

So what’s going on in this story? Some think perhaps that Jesus was “testing” this woman to make sure she had “enough” faith. But that doesn’t fit. Everything about this story demonstrates her faith. She approaches him by from the very beginning by calling him “Lord.” We might not think much of that, but in Matthew’s Gospel only those who have faith call Jesus “Lord.” She also falls on her face and worships him when she asks for his mercy. And in the end, Jesus declares that she has “great faith”! That’s something Jesus never says about the disciples in Matthew’s Gospel! They were people of “little faith.” I think this “foreign” woman had plenty of faith!

I think that the ones who were being “tested” in this story were the disciples. You can tell by the way they reacted to the woman’s (likely repeated) cry for help that they didn’t think she deserved his help. It didn’t take long for them to get fed up and ask Jesus to “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us” (Mt 10:23). Not much compassion there! I think we would be right to assume that the Jesus hand-picked ministry apprentices carried all the sense of entitlement that the rest of the Jewish people did. They were not only God’s “chosen” people, these twelve were also the ones whom Jesus personally selected to carry out his work. Surely that meant they were better than this “foreign” woman! I think it’s pretty clear that they looked down on her as someone who was not only beneath Jesus’ help, but also beneath even being in their presence! One point of this story, where Jesus commends her for her “great faith,” was to confront his own disciples for their prejudice against her.

What does this have to do with us? Like the Canaanite woman in our story, the people we think of as “beneath” us are often people of “great faith.” They actually set an example for us, just like this woman did for Jesus’ disciples. We think we’re helping them, but if we take the time to see their “great faith,” we find that they’re actually helping us. There’s even a name for it. It’s called the “reverse mission.” Anyone who has been to a “Third World” country has experienced this. Those of us who have the means to help people in need find that in the process their “great faith” challenges and inspires us. More than that, they bring us face-to-face with our not-so-healthy attitudes about life, about other people, and about ourselves, and in so doing they offer us the opportunity to change. Our encounters with them help us become better followers of Jesus and better human beings. They remind us that there’s no one we can consider “unworthy” of God’s love, because God’s love is for everyone!

Monday, January 09, 2023

Beloved

Matthew 3:13-17[1]

I have a confession to make. I sometimes have a hard time believing what I preach. It’s not that I don’t believe it’s true. I’ve always viewed preaching as a sacred duty. And I’ve worked hard to preach the truth as I’m able to understand it. I don’t have any problem believing that what I am preaching is true. I’m convinced that it’s true for you. What I have a hard time believing is that it’s true for me. I firmly believe that God’s grace, mercy, and love include each and every one of you. But I sometimes have a hard time believing that they also include me. The problem is that I struggle with feeling “unworthy” of God’s love. I’m keenly aware of all the ways that I fall short. That makes it hard to think that God might be “pleased” with me. As is often the case, I suspect I’m not alone in that difficulty.

There are so many reasons for us to feel “unworthy.” Some of us grew up with the message that no matter how hard you try, your best is never good enough. Even though we may receive compliments from our friends, we may find it impossible to take them to heart. When we look around us, we can always find someone who appears to be “better.” Regardless of the category—whether it’s who we are, what we have, or what we do—when we play the “comparison game,” we always come up short. Many of us just can’t get past the fact that we’re convinced in our own eyes that we’re “unworthy.” And it’s not far from believing that we’re “unworthy” in our own eyes to believing that we’re “unworthy” in God’s eyes.

You may be wondering what this has to do with our Gospel lesson for today. It’s Matthew’s story of Jesus’ baptism by John. All the Gospels make some mention of it, but they don’t all tell the story the same way. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all describe the experience of “the heavens” being “opened” and the Spirit “descending like a dove” upon Jesus. But they differ slightly in the way the heavenly voice is worded. In Matthew, the voice says, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased” (Mt 3:17). But in Mark and Luke, the voice is addressed to Jesus: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” To me, that sounds more personal, like an affirmation given to Jesus by God.

I’ve raised the question before whether Jesus would have needed that kind of affirmation. When you read John’s Gospel, it certainly doesn’t seem like it. Jesus begins his ministry knowing full well not only who he is but also that he had come to die on the cross. When you think of Jesus as “fully divine,” that makes sense. I’d say, however, that the other Gospels may present this aspect of Jesus’ life more from the perspective that he was “fully human.” There are statements in the other Gospel from Jesus about who he was, but you have to look for them. He doesn’t clearly announce that he must die on the cross until he is well into his ministry, perhaps even near the end. Maybe, just maybe, Jesus needed to hear that he was God’s beloved son as he was about to launch the kingdom of God that would turn over all the tables of the religious beliefs in his day.

The wording of this affirmation takes its cue from Isaiah 42. There God affirms his “servant,” the one who would carry out his saving purpose by saying, “He is my chosen one, who pleases me” (Isa 42:1, NLT). When you look at what Isaiah says about the “Servant of the Lord,” you can understand why there was a need for this kind of affirmation. The Servant was going to undergo suffering, rejection, and even death. But these kinds of experiences have been true of those whom God chose to carry out his saving purposes from the beginning. Moses, Elijah, Jeremiah, and many others needed assurance from God, and affirmation of his support for what they were doing because they faced such hardship from those who opposed them. Given the kind of hostility that Jesus faced, it makes sense that he may have needed God’s affirmation as well.

That’s all well and good for Jesus, and for other “servants” of the Lord like Moses and Elijah. But it may not be clear to us how this applies to us. I certainly wouldn’t put myself in that company, and I’m not sure many of us would! But I’m taking a cue from one of my favorite authors here. Henri Nouwen was a Roman Catholic priest and a pioneer in pastoral care. He struggled all his life with feelings of unworthiness, a topic he writes about in many of his books. I recently picked up a copy of a daily reader composed of excerpts from his writings called, “You Are the Beloved.” In the reading for January 2, he takes this statement, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased” (Mt 3:17) and reminds us that this is true of all of us as God’s beloved children, daughters and sons with whom he is “well pleased.”

Again, if you’re like me you may be asking how we can presume to take something God said to Jesus and apply it to ourselves. It’s not hard to believe that God loved Jesus and was “well pleased” with him. But it may seem inappropriate at the very least to think those beautiful words relate to us. And yet, the great Reformed theologian Karl Barth insisted that when God chose Jesus Christ before the foundation of the world, he chose us all in him (cf. Eph 1:3-10).[2] That statement rests on and implies a great deal of theological reflection. But the bottom line is that we are chosen not because of anything we’ve done or ever could do, but rather simply because it was God’s will to choose us as his “beloved” sons and daughters though Jesus. And this has been the truth about us from “the beginning,” it is the truth “now,” and it “ever shall be, world without end! Amen, Amen!”

It’s one thing to for us to hear that message and believe that it’s true. It’s another matter altogether to find a way for it to sink in so that we can really believe it. It can be difficult if not impossible to get past our own “unworthiness.” It can be difficult if not impossible to believe that God could be “pleased” with us. But the gospel message is that we are beloved by God and God is pleased with us simply because God chooses us as his beloved sons and daughters. Perhaps what we need is a way to remind ourselves of this beautiful gospel truth. You may have noticed that I wear a cross ring on my right hand. After reading the excerpt from my new book, I’ve decided to use it as my reminder that I am God’s beloved child. I would encourage you to pick something that can remind you that you are all, each and every one of you, God’s beloved children.

[2] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 2.2:117, where he says that Jesus’ “election is the original and all-inclusive election; … his election carries in it and with it the election of the rest.” Much of volume 2.2 of the Dogmatics is devoted to this theme.

Monday, February 07, 2022

All Called, All Chosen

Luke 5:1-11[1]

I’ve been in ministry of some form or another for most of my adult life. As many of you know, I spent 25 years working in the Southern Baptist world. In all that time I was never comfortable with telling people I was a “Baptist minister.” The reason for that was I knew the label “Baptist minister” would carry some assumptions about me that I didn’t care for people to make. On the other hand, I’ve never had any problem introducing myself as a “Presbyterian minister.” I realize that just the word “minister” means that people are going to make assumptions about me. But as a Presbyterian I can live with that.

I wonder how comfortable some of you would feel with the idea of being introduced to a stranger as a “Presbyterian minister.” You know, we do believe that every member of a Presbyterian church is called to share in the ministry of the church. I know that there are other churches out there that still see the clergy as the only real “ministers” and the people only passively receive the blessings they distribute. But we believe that the whole people of God are called to serve. That doesn’t mean everybody is meant to preach or teach, or that you should run out and sign up for seminary classes. What it means is that we are all called together to serve the kingdom of God as we follow Jesus. We are all called, and we are all chosen.

I think that’s one of the themes from Luke’s unique presentation of Jesus calling the first disciples in our lesson for today. Jesus called Peter, James, and John just as they were: “sinful” by Peter’s own admission. They may have seen themselves as unworthy or unable to fulfill the calling, but that didn’t matter to Jesus. He called them anyway. And he called fishermen to go out and “catch” people for the kingdom of God. Although they would later serve as apostles, teachers, and leaders of the young church in Jerusalem and beyond, they started by fishing for people. All of this reminds us that God delights in carrying out his work in the world through those we may see as unlikely, or even unworthy.

It started with Jesus teaching such a large crowd by the Sea of Galilee that he asked to borrow Peter’s boat so that he could teach them. Afterwards, he told Peter and the others, who had finished a long night of backbreaking work with nothing to show for it, to go back out and try again. I dare say that if any other carpenter had given these professional fishermen advice on how to do their job, they would have responded with some choice words. But because it was Jesus, Peter and the others went back out. I also think it’s important to call attention to the likelihood that none of them believed for one minute they were going to catch any fish. They went back out from respect for Jesus, not in faith!

That makes the result even more impressive. These ordinary fishermen, who would not have laid claim to any special faith, rough men who knew what it was to work hard all night long, were the ones Jesus was dealing with. Despite anything they may have lacked in themselves, Jesus worked the miracle of a catch of fish so large that it threatened to sink two boats. Now these were boats made for the business of fishing. I think the point of it all was that catching that many fish was not something anyone would ever have expected to do. Because these fishermen went back out “at Jesus’ word” (Lk 5:5), Jesus worked a miracle through them!

The effect on Peter and the others was overwhelming. Luke says they were “seized with awe” (Lk 5:9) or as other translators have put it, they “were staggered” (Philips), or they were “awestruck” (NLT). No wonder Peter “fell to his knees before Jesus” (Lk 5:8, NLT) and said “I am a sinful man.” I think he was keenly aware of his own unworthiness in the presence of Jesus. But I also think he was overwhelmed by the unbelievable display of what Jesus could do through someone who was simply willing to follow him. I think Simon Peter and the others would have considered themselves the last to be chosen by someone like Jesus, not the first!

I’ve been serving the church in some way all my adult life, for more than 40 years. And yet, as I stand before you today, I would say that in my mind, I, Alan Brehm, do not consider myself worthy of the calling to ministry. The truth that overwhelms me is that God has called me anyway. The truth about all of us is that God delights in working through those who think they are unworthy. Regardless of where you are, regardless of where you’ve been, regardless of where you think you may be going, Jesus calls each and every one of us to join him in his work. And if we will just follow him “at his word” like Peter, James, and John did so long ago, he will do amazing things through us as well.

As I look over a document like our annual report, I see that many of us are doing just that: following Jesus “at his word.” We have people who are teaching, we have people who are preparing meals, we have people who are collecting food, we have people who are leading worship, we have people who are managing our finances, and we have people who are taking care of our properties, and that doesn’t begin to cover all that we are doing. But there’s always more to be done. And the promise of this passage is that when we do follow Jesus “at his word,” God can do more than we could ever expect or imagine. At the end of the day, it’s not about what we think we can or cannot do, but rather it’s about the fact that we have all been called, and we are all chosen to join in the ministry of God’s kingdom.

Sunday, October 11, 2020

All Are Chosen

Matthew 22:1-14[1]

Many of us experienced the childhood ritual of “choosing up teams.” A group of children would decide to play a game, and two would be selected as “captains.” Then the “captains” would take turns choosing their teams. If you were like me, you were one of the last to be chosen. I was a bit clumsy in those days. My hand-eye coordination wasn’t the best. Most times I was one of the last to be chosen—if not the very last! Which meant that my team didn’t “choose” me, they got “stuck” with me. No matter how many times I went through that ritual, I don’t think I ever got used to the feeling of being “chosen” last.

Fortunately, we also had church sports leagues. I played on our church’s volleyball and softball team. There was no question about whether or not you would get to be on the team. Anyone who showed up was on the team. But, again, I wasn’t the fastest, or the best at bat, or the best at fielding a ball. I played right field. Anyone who’s played softball knows what that meant. In church league terms, that’s the spot for the weakest player on the team. And when I came up to bat, I was the “easy out.” Even on our church’s sports team, I felt like they didn’t “choose” me, they got “stuck” with me.

Our Gospel lesson for today has to do with this dynamic in our world. Jesus tells a story about how “many are called, but few are chosen.” I think we have to be careful here, because I would say this is another ironical parable. Jesus is teaching us about the Kingdom of God by telling a story that illustrates the opposite way in which the world works. In the story, a king throws a wedding feast for his son. Now, in the Mediterranean world of Jesus’ day, any “king” was nothing more than a “stand-in” for Caesar. And it would seem that the people he ruled knew that he was no real king, because when he threw a party for his son’s wedding, none of the “movers and shakers” of his kingdom would come. What we have to understand is that a royal wedding was about demonstrating the ongoing legitimacy of one’s rule. And that means that when the wedding guests refused to come, they were repudiating his rule over them. Not a very welcome RSVP, to say the least!

So the king responds the way any petty ruler of the day would—with force. He sends his soldiers in and they attack his “subjects” and kill them and burn them out. No surprises there. But then the king does something strange—he decides to invite all the “riff-raff” to the party. After all, he’s throwing a party to celebrate his rule and its continuation through his son. When you throw yourself a party, and nobody shows up, it’s not much of a party! So he decides to save face and fills the banquet hall with anyone and everyone his servants could find on the streets.

Just in case you’re beginning to think this guy must not be all bad, the story includes his not-so-friendly interaction with one of the guests. When the king sees one of the people who have been whisked off the street to fill the party not dressed in the appropriate garment, he flies into a rage and throws him out. After all, perhaps the fact that he didn’t have the right wedding garment was a reminder to the king that the party was a sham and his “guests” were really just there to make the party look like a “success.” So he vents what’s left of his anger over being snubbed on this unsuspecting fellow.[2] And the justification for his temper tantrum sounds reasonable enough: “many are called but few are chosen.”

I find it interesting that while Jesus said many things that sound like that, this is the only place where those precise words are recorded. At first glance it seems that “many are called, but few are chosen” would be something Jesus might have said. But if you compare the way Jesus acted, you find a different picture. You find Jesus welcoming those who were outcast. You find Jesus sharing meals with the most notorious of sinners. In fact, so much so that Jesus had the reputation of being “a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax-collectors and sinners” (Matt. 11:19)! In light of that, I don’t think it makes sense to take the statement that “many are called, but few are chosen” at face value.

That’s the way the world in which we live works. Only the best players are “chosen” to play for the team. The rest sit on the bench. Appropriate attire is required; and if you’re not dressed appropriately, don’t bother showing up. But the Kingdom of God that Jesus envisioned and proclaimed works very differently. In fact, you could say it’s completely opposite from the way the world works. There is no dress code. Everyone is welcome at the table. Everyone is invited, and you can come to the party just as you are. In the Kingdom of God, “all are called, all are chosen!”

[2] Cf. Daniel Berrigan, “A Parable For Today, If Not Tomorrow - The Parable Of The King's Banquet,” in National Catholic Reporter (May 4, 2001): 10-11: “Imagine a homeless person in New York rounded up to appear at a wedding and then berated for not being clothed in a tuxedo!”

Monday, January 14, 2019

You Are Mine

Isaiah 43:1-7[1]

Among the fears we can deal with in our lives, the fear of rejection can be one of the most devastating. For some of us, that fear is only a “what-if” possibility. But for many of us, it comes from our life experience. We have actually experienced rejection by those who we thought would give us love: parents, spouses, children, family, or friends. It is one of the most painful things I’ve ever had to endure in this life. Many of you have had your share of rejection, and I think you might very well agree. When you go through rejection once, or twice, or perhaps more than that, it ingrains in your soul the fear of being rejected again. And fear is something that keeps us from fully living our lives.

I think part of the reason why the fear of rejection is so powerful is that it affects us so deeply. At the core of our being, we long to feel safe and secure in the knowledge that there is someone in this world who will always love us, through thick and thin, come what may. When we think we have that kind of love, and we find ourselves rejected by the ones we thought we could depend on, it makes it hard to trust that we will ever be safe or loved again. No matter how kind, no matter how affirming, no matter how loving someone may be, the thought is always lurking around that they could change their mind and walk away.

Our Scripture lesson from the prophet Isaiah for today is one that was addressed to a people who very likely felt rejected by God! They were people who had lost everything: homes, lives, land, and even in some cases family. They had been forced to leave it all behind. When the prophet spoke his message, they were living in exile in Babylon, far from anything familiar. I would imagine it was hard for them not to feel rejected by God. Though their faith may have been shallow, they had believed that with God on their side, they were safe from having to suffer the kinds of things they had gone through. But the Babylonians brought them to a rude awakening.

One of the Psalms sheds light on how the exiles must have felt. Psalm 137 is one of the most bitter laments in the Bible. In it, the Psalmist recounts how their captors asked them to sing the songs of their land and their faith. But the response was “How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?” (Ps. 137:4). In the devastation they felt, they had “hung up their harps” on the willow trees and instead of singing they sat and wept by the rivers of Babylon (Ps. 137:1-2). In fact, the end of the Psalm is one of the most disturbing expressions of the desire for revenge in the Bible. While they asked the LORD to remember and avenge them, I would think that a significant cause of their bitterness was the feeling that they had been rejected by God.

Into the darkness of their despair, in the name of the LORD the prophet assured them that, regardless of what they had been through and in spite of what they might be feeling, God had not rejected them. The prophet called on them not to fear, and promised in the name of the LORD that “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you” (Isa. 43:2). That probably sounded hard to believe. They had been through the waters and had felt overwhelmed. They had been through the fire and had very likely been burned.

In the face of all that they had been through, the basis for this promise was who God was and what God had done. The prophet called on the people not to fear the flood or the fire because of who God is: “the LORD … who created you” and “the LORD your God, …, your Savior” (Isa. 43:1, 3). The God who had created them in the first place was the same God who had proven that he was their Savior many times. But perhaps more importantly, he was also the God who loved them. In the midst of their heartbreak, he was the God who declared: “you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you” (Isa. 43:4). Because of that love, he was also the God who had “called them by name” and had declared definitively: “you are mine” (Isa. 43:1).

From a real-life perspective, you can’t go through a flood without getting soaked through. And you can’t go through a fire without at least smelling like smoke, and maybe even getting singed. The hard truth about life is that bad things happen to good people. And at times it can be so tragic as to leave us wondering whether there is anyone out there who knows us and cares about us, including God! The many holocausts that we have witnessed through history are prime evidence of that hard truth. But the promise is not that we will never suffer, but rather that these hardships will not consume us. And the reason for that is that God promises, come what may, that “you are mine.”

The fear of rejection can make life just as bitter for us as it was for the Jewish exiles in Babylon. And there are some experiences that are so tragic we can also wonder whether God has rejected us. But the promise of Scripture is that no matter what we may go through in this life, God has declared to us, “you are mine.” Nothing can change the fact that God has claimed us as his own out of his unfailing love for us. In case we have any lingering doubts, God himself came among us in Jesus to make clear once and for all that he is our Savior. In Jesus, God demonstrated once and for all, out of his unfailing love for us, that he has claimed us as his own. The God who created us and the God who saves us is the one who has declared forever: “you are mine.”

[1] ©Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 1/13/2019 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Monday, October 01, 2018

Too Small a Thing

Isaiah 49:1-6[1]

Lately we’ve heard a lot of dialogue about “privilege.” I think we as a people have always had to deal with the fact that there are some who seem to have advantages that others don’t. There was a time when it was commonly assumed that privilege was earned and deserved, and that those who lacked privilege had only themselves to blame. Maybe some still hold that view. These days much of the talk has shifted to a critical view of privilege. Those who have privilege have an unfair advantage. They may have gained that advantage by questionable means. And anyone with privilege is certainly suspect for the simple fact of having it.

While it’s true that there are plenty of people out there taking unfair advantage of others, I think our current conversation is too shallow. It fails to take into account the fact that many who have privileges or advantages use them in the service of others. That was the sentiment behind President Kennedy’s statement, “Those to whom much is given, much is required.” And, of course the original form of this was spoken by Jesus: “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required” (Lk. 12:48). It’s an approach to privilege that seems to have been overlooked in our current setting—both in the way some talk about privilege, and in the way some approach their own privileges.

The prophet Isaiah addressed the issue of privilege among the Jewish people. From the days of Moses, they had a strong sense of being a “peculiar people,” a nation chosen and blessed by God. But as the prophets make clear, the Jewish people had turned that blessing into a right they saw as theirs. They thought that blessing would spare them from all harm, even from suffering the consequences of their disobedience to God. They saw the privilege of being God’s “chosen people” as an advantage they had a right to claim for themselves.

But Isaiah reminded them that the purpose of their calling in the first place was not simply their own privilege, but so that they might be a “light to the nations” (Isaiah 49:6). This theme goes back to the days of the Exodus, when Moses had said that they would be a “priestly kingdom and a holy nation” (Exodus 19:6), a whole nation of people who would speak for God and represent God’s saving purposes in the world. It goes back even beyond that to the days when Abraham lived in Ur of the Chaldees, and God called him to leave for a place “to be determined”! The purpose was to make Abraham a blessing to all people: “in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Genesis 12:3).

Somewhere along the way, however, that outlook got lost. But the Jewish people weren’t the only ones to take that path. The church throughout the ages has made the very same mistake. Like the Jewish people of old, Kings and popes and preachers of all kinds have mistaken God’s blessing for a privilege they had a right to claim. And they have believed this privilege gives them a claim to advantages like power, wealth, and influence that is theirs by right.

But the God whom Isaiah called his people to worship is “the everlasting God, the creator of the ends of the earth” (Isaiah 40:28), the one who “sits above the circle of the earth” and “stretches out the heavens like a curtain” (40:22). The God who called them and us to serve as light to the world is the one who said, “I made the earth, and created humankind upon it; it was my hands that stretched out the heavens, and I commanded all their host” (Isaiah 45:12). I think the point is to place the calling of a particular people as the “chosen ones” in the proper context. As Isaiah said so long ago, to view their privilege as something that belongs to them alone is “too small a thing” for the God who is in the process of renewing all creation.

When we walk down that path, we not only make our God too small, we abandon the very lifeblood of the church—our calling to carry out the same task as God’s “servant” of whom Isaiah spoke so long ago. Like God’s “servant” we are called to serve, not to be served. Like God’s “servant” we are called to bring God’s grace, mercy, and love to those who have been written off: to the least and the last and the left out. It’s an approach to “privilege” that sets aside a self-serving attitude and sees God’s blessing as a calling to serve others.

It’s an approach to privilege that recognizes that “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required.” It says to the hungry “here’s food,” and to the stranger, “you’re welcome here.” It’s a point of view that says to those who are thirsty, “here’s water,” and to those who are homeless, “here’s shelter.” It seeks to set free all those who are captives and to bring comfort to those who are suffering in any way. It’s a standpoint that helps those in poverty to find a better life. It’s an attitude that views privilege as a means of helping others.

The point of God’s blessing on a special people was never to bestow upon them a privilege they could use to their own advantage. Rather it has always been a calling to serve others. It is not about claiming rights we think belong to us, but transforming this world into “the kind of world God had in mind when He created it.”^{^[2]} Anything less than that is “too small a thing” for the God and Father of our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ who is working through the Spirit of life to make all things new! And it’s “too small a thing” for us as well.

[2] Harold Kushner, To Life!; accessed at http://www.spiritualityandpractice.com/ practices/practices.php?id=30&g=1.

Saturday, July 18, 2015

God's Delight

God’s Delight

Ephesians 1:3-14[1]

It seems to me that we have a rather ambiguous attitude toward the freedom to choose. When that freedom belongs to us, we’re all for it. In fact, if anybody even hints at somehow restricting our freedom to make our own choices, we can get pretty bent out of shape. We hold on to our right to choose for dear life. But when the freedom to choose belongs to someone else, it can be a completely different matter. We don’t necessarily mind others having the freedom to choose, but we don’t want their choices to affect us adversely. In fact, we can get just as bent out of shape if somebody else makes a choice that somehow leaves us feeling short-changed or left out. I’d say we’re definitely ambiguous about the freedom to choose.

So it comes as no surprise when we come to a Scripture lesson that talks about God choosing people, we may not feel entirely comfortable about it. In fact, the whole idea of “predestination” is one of the most confusing elements of our reformed heritage. In fact, I had a conversation about this with my future daughter-in-law Jaime a few months ago. Like many people, she assumed that as Presbyterians we follow Calvin, and therefore we believe that God has chosen to bless a select group, and he has chosen to condemn the vast majority of humanity.[2] Knowing me, she was understandably confused. I think a lot of people get confused about what we as Presbyterians believe about this—not least because there are some Presbyterians who endorse it wholeheartedly![3]

I think part of the problem is that we get lost in the whole logic of choosing. If we choose one thing, it logically means that we’re rejecting something else. And there are some biblical passages that seem to imply that’s how God operates. It begins with God choosing to bless Abram and all his descendants. The Scripture says “I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse” (Gen. 12:3). That doesn’t sound very inclusive. In fact there is a lot of language surrounding the fact that Israel was the “chosen people” that sounds pretty exclusive. It sounds like God chooses a few and rejects the rest. But even in that initial blessing upon Abram and his descendants, there is a tension. While the first part of the verse sounds pretty exclusive, the rest of the verse reads, “and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Gen. 12:3)

I would say there’s definitely a development in the way the Bible treats this issue. For many centuries, the faith of Israel as expressed in the Hebrew Bible reflected the idea that their being “chosen” by God was a privilege that made them special in God’s sight. The whole language of speaking about non-Jewish people as “pagans” or “heathen” reflects this bias. But already in the Hebrew Bible, especially with the book of Isaiah, there were some hints that the idea of God going to all the trouble just to save only one branch of the human family was “too small a thing.” Rather, God commissions the prophet to serve as “a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth” (Isa. 49:6).

And so when Jesus came and offered salvation to Gentiles on equal footing with the “chosen” people, he caused quite a stir. But he also made it clear that God delights in the salvation of the whole human family, not just one small part of it. I think that’s the idea behind our Scripture lesson for today. I like the way the New Living Translation puts it: “Long ago, even before he made the world, God loved us and chose us in Christ …. His unchanging plan has always been to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ. And this gave him great pleasure” (Eph. 1:4-5). It seems to me that God has always taken delight in our salvation.[4]

What a very different image that suggests than a God who chooses a few and rejects all the rest. It’s true that this Scripture uses the language of “us,” referring to believers. That obviously opens the door for some to read this text from that same old “we’re in and you’re out” point of view. But the way the Scripture goes on to frame it changes the perspective: it says, “God’s secret plan has now been revealed to us; it is a plan centered on Christ, designed long ago according to his good pleasure. And this is his plan: At the right time he will bring everything together under the authority of Christ -- everything in heaven and on earth” (Eph. 1:9-10, NLT).[5] That doesn't sound like it leaves out anyone or anything. I like a phrase from The Message translation, where it says that God took “such delight” in making this plan for the salvation of everyone and all things.

Some of you may be scratching your heads at this point.[6] We’ve heard the “good news” that those of us who believe in Jesus will be saved while those who don’t will be “left behind” for so long that when we are confronted with this aspect of biblical teaching it seems too good to be true. But that is the “full” gospel—not just that God intends to save a chosen few, but rather that God’s plan is to redeem every one of his beloved children and every inch of his precious creation.[7] It’s a message that begins with Abraham, and runs through the whole Bible. And so in the New Testament the Apostles looked forward to the day when “every knee” would bow in worship and acknowledge Christ as Lord (Phil. 2:10-11). The plan behind all of this is that God is in the process of “making all things new” (Rev. 21:5, NJB). How that will happen I don’t profess to understand completely.[8] But it is a breathtaking message; a message that truly is “good news”: God’s plan is that through Christ he is going to redeem all people and all things. And as the Scripture says, God takes “great delight” in seeing to it that this plan will be fulfilled

[2] 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.

[3] 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.” He also points out that although Luther also created the impression of a schizophrenic God of wrath and love, he at least left a door open for people to “flee from the angry to the gracious God.” On the other hand (p. 137), Scholastic theology, with its doctrinaire embellishment of Calvin’s “eternal double decree of election and reprobation” made it impossible to change one’s fate.

[4] As Desmond Tutu puts it, “There is nothing we can do to make God love us more” and “there is nothing we can do to make God love us less.” Desmond Tutu, God Has a Dream: A Vision of Hope for Our Time, 32.

[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.” Cf. also Ralph P. Martin, Ephesians, Colossians, and Philemon, 17, where he says, “this bold claim marks the completion of New Testament thought which has Christ as the source (Col. 1:16; John 1:3-4; Heb. 1:2-3) and the sustainer (Col. 1:17) of creation. He is now hailed as the destined Lord of all life as the goal toward which the whole creation is moving.” See further, Pheme Perkins “The Letter to the Ephesians,” New Interpreters Bible XI:378: “Various astronomical theories, equations, and observations speculate about the probable fate of the material universe, but Ephesians assures us that God’s plan of salvation does not depend on these calculations and that somehow the universe is ordered so that all things return to God in Christ.”

[6] The idea that a God of grace and mercy loves us unconditionally with a love that will never let us go is is something “so unheard of, so unexpected” that it can only appear to us as something “incomprehensible and meaningless,” as a “vast impossibility.” Cf. Karl Barth, Romans, 38, 108-9.

[7] Karl Barth describes it as God’s great gracious “Yes” to all humankind in Jesus the Christ that changes everything, at least potentially. See Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics IV.3:622, 649-50, 660-61, 711-12, 789, 798-99. Cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 292-93, where he speaks of the Christian community as “the sign, the instrument, and the breaking-in of the new order of all things” and therefore not as “the exclusive community of the saved,” but “the initial and inclusive” expression of “the world freed by the risen Christ.”

[8] Cf. Berkhof, Christian Faith, 223, where he explains it this way: “God creates for himself a partner and allows himself to be limited and resisted by the freedom of that partner. But all of salvation history guarantees that ultimately he will not lose his grip on the world and will not rest until he has—no, not conquered and subjugated but—led his human opponent to the true freedom of the sons of God.”

The Waking Dreamer