The Waking Dreamer: Discouragement

Showing posts with label Discouragement. Show all posts

Saturday, August 08, 2026

Let It Begin With Me

Matthew 14:13-21[1]

Another slogan from the Twelve Step movement is “Let It Begin With Me.” In fact, it comes from what is known as the “Al-Anon Declaration”: “Let it begin with me. When anyone, anywhere, reaches out for help, let the hand of Al-Anon and Al-Ateen always be there, and let it begin with me.” Many Al-Anon and Al-Ateen meetings either open or close with this declaration. It’s a constant reminder that Al-Anon and Al-Ateen exist to help the families and friends of people who misuse alcohol and other substances. Their sole purpose is to provide a helping hand to those who suffer because a friend or a loved one is an alcoholic. I can tell you from personal experience that many people come to their first meeting and spend the whole hour sobbing because they are hurting so badly, their lives feel completely out of control, and they are terrified of what tomorrow will bring.

“Let it begin with me” is a call to action. It’s a reminder that we each bear responsibility for our choices and actions. If we want to see changes, we have to be the ones to make changes in our lives. That doesn’t guarantee we’ll get the outcomes we want. Most people come to Al-Anon hoping that the changes they make will change their friend or loved one so that they no longer misuse alcohol or drugs. Sometimes that happens, but mostly it doesn’t. What taking responsibility for our own choices and actions does guarantee is that we’ll learn to face life in a healthier way. This mindset applies not only to families and friends of alcoholics and those who struggle with other addictions. We all share in the brokenness of the human family. And when we find ourselves at the point of feeling overwhelmed, perhaps feeling like our lives are completely out of control and fearing what tomorrow will bring, we are right in the middle of the brokenness that everyone in this world shares.

Unfortunately, most of us don’t respond to being in that place very positively. Our first instinct is to blame someone else. If I’m hurting, someone else must be at fault. That approach might be characterized by the slogan, “it has to begin with you.” We look at our pain, we find someone to blame for it, and we put the responsibility for our happiness in their hands. If we’re going to get better, they have to change. Of course, that places all the power for our wellbeing in the hands of someone else. “Let it begin with me” takes the opposite approach. If I’m hurting, it’s my pain. I’m responsible for my feelings and what I do about them. I’m the only one who holds the key to my happiness in life. Nobody can “make” me happy by what they do or don’t do. If I want things to change in my life, I’m the one who has to make the changes.

I think there’s a part of our Gospel lesson for today that relates to this line of thinking. I didn’t really plan these sermons on the Al-Anon slogans. As I read the Scriptures each week, it just developed that way. And that applies to our Gospel lesson for this week. When it comes to our Christian lives, we’re wise to recognize that there’s much about this world that is bigger than we can control. Only God can handle those things. But we can control our choices. In our Gospel lesson, Jesus has been teaching a huge crowd: 5000 men, not counting women and children. And at the end of the day, when it was time to eat, they were all a long way from any place where they could find food. The disciples’ suggestion that Jesus dismiss the crowd so they could find food in the surrounding towns and villages wasn’t very practical. It’s doubtful there was enough food in the surrounding area to feed such a crowd. They were just trying to “pass the buck” and get rid of the problem!

Jesus ignores their suggestion. Instead, he tells them, “You give them something to eat” (Matt. 14:16)! The disciples responded as you might think: they asked how they could possibly feed such a huge crowd with the little food they had with them. But I think Jesus may have been trying to teach them something. They had seen him work miracles that amazed them. But in one sense they’d become spectators, watching what Jesus was going to do instead of taking an active role in God’s Kingdom, as he called them to. I think Jesus used this setting to challenge them to step out of their spectator role and to take a more active stance with their commitment to follow him.

The story that follows is intriguing, because although it’s the only miracle of Jesus recounted by all four Gospels, there’s no mention how Jesus was able to feed such a massive crowd with five loaves and two fish! Some have suggested that the example of generosity inspired those in the crowd to share their food with others. We don’t know that. Popular movies have depicted it as an instantaneous miracle—Jesus lifts the food in a basket to bless it, and when he brings it down the basket is overflowing with loaves and fishes. But we don’t know that either. We really don’t know and may never be able to explain how Jesus multiplied the loaves and fish. At the end of the day, all that we really know about this miracle is that Jesus gave the loaves to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds, and everyone had enough to eat and more!

It leaves me wondering if it could be that it was in the act of the disciples being willing to step out of the relative comfort of a spectator role and taking a more active role in the work of the Kingdom that the miracle occurred. We still don’t know that for sure, but it does seem significant that Jesus instructed the disciples who wanted to send everybody away to serve their food to the hungry crowds. And perhaps the miracle happened somehow in the giving. By moving from spectators to taking an active role, the disciples became channels for God to do his miraculous work. Perhaps one of the lessons is that true miracles happen in ways we may never be able to explain.

We’ll probably never know for sure exactly what happened that day by the Sea of Galilee. But I think we can know that when we stay comfortably on the sidelines, adopting the role of a spectator, not much is ever going to happen. When we get stuck in our fears that there’s not enough or perhaps what we have to give isn’t good enough, all there will ever be is a bunch of hungry people. We have to take an active role in serving others if we want to follow Jesus. I think this is where the wisdom of the Twelve-Step slogan, “Let It Begin With Me,” can help us. Instead of looking at all that’s wrong in the world and trying to find whom we can blame, when we “let it begin with me,” we step up and do what we can do. As the Scriptures illustrate, when do so, even the little that we have to give can become more than enough. There is much about God’s work in this world that’s bigger than us. But there are things we can all do right where we are. I think that’s part of what Jesus wants us to learn from this miracle: when we step up and do what we can do, God takes what we have to offer and uses it to do more than we can imagine!

Tuesday, December 03, 2024

The Hopes and Fears of All the Years

The Hopes of All the Years

Luke 21:25-33[1]

As we begin the celebration of the Advent season, I think it may be helpful for us to remind ourselves what it’s about. In the original church tradition, Advent was meant to be a time of reflection in preparation for the celebration of the “Twelve Days of Christmas” from December 25 to January 6. The idea was that we prepare to celebrate the “coming of the Lord” by waiting quietly and patiently for Christmas to come. Lighting the candles on the advent wreath, and even using advent calendars, have been traditional ways to practice this “waiting.” Of course, these days the Advent season is filled with all kinds of celebrations of Christmas, which in our minds is over on December 26. Some people who are sticklers for liturgical correctness complain about this every year. I used to do some of that complaining myself. I’d like to think I’ve mellowed from being such a liturgical stickler!

If we think about the focus of the four Sundays in Advent: hope, peace, love, and joy, then maybe the way we “celebrate” Advent isn’t all that far off from the original intent. As we approach the end of the year, many of us may focus on the hopes we may have for the coming year. While the busy-ness of the season may make it not so peaceful to some of us, it is a time when we think about peace in our world: peace between countries, peace between different factions in our country, peace with those who may have anything against us, peace between family members. Advent is a time when we sing songs that tend to remind us of the love that we have in our lives, and the love that God has given us. It’s a time when we may go out of our way to be loving toward our friends and family. And as we seek to practice the kindness and giving associated with the season, it all reminds us of the joy we have in our lives.

I realize that much of that may not hold true for some of us. This may be a time for many of us when our hopes have dimmed and faded. We may struggle to hold onto our hope in the face of all that life continues to throw our way. Some of us may have had a difficult year, and we may simply feel weary from all the losses and disappointments we’ve had to bear. Or maybe this year hasn’t been that kind of year for some of us, but you’ve had years like that in the past. All of it can make “hope” seem like a flimsy thing to use to get through difficult times. Our past experiences may make the songs of hope we sing in this season sound hollow to some of us. So, on this first Sunday of Advent, when we celebrate the hope that the birth of Jesus represents for us, we may be wondering what good hope can do for us.

Especially in the uncertain times we live in, most of us would probably choose safety and stability over hope. As much as we may be looking forward to new things in our lives, we like to know that tomorrow will be, in all essentials, basically the same as today. We rely on the stability of the routines that make our lives familiar. But our experience of recent years may have left us wondering whether anything in our lives is really stable or secure. That’s a question that’s more than unsettling; if we’re honest, we have to admit it’s downright scary! Again, it can leave us wondering what good “hope” can do for us.

In our Gospel lesson for today Jesus addressed this question, but in a way that might seem to be coming through the back door. He was answering the questions his disciples had about the uncertainty of his times. But he did so in a way that they may have found less than reassuring. The setting of our lesson is the final week of Jesus’ ministry. What we should understand is that the political situation in Judea was unstable and even chaotic. Although the Romans maintained control through their powerful armies, there was a constant undercurrent of resentment and even rebellion among the Jewish people. All of this would boil over into an all-out war within a few decades, and the result would be Jerusalem destroyed and with it, the Jewish nation.

I think Jesus’ disciples must have been aware of what was going on. Tjhey must have sensed the tension in the air. As they were walking through the Temple, the most magnificent structure in Jerusalem in that day, I would imagine they saw the strength of the structure as a reassurance of God’s presence among them. To them it may have been a kind of promise that whatever the future may hold, God would be with them. But Jesus told them that not one of the massive stones that made up the Temple complex would be left on one another. They asked him to tell them the “signs” as a way of making the stress of an uncertain future more “manageable.” But Jesus didn’t give them any signs to reassure them.

Instead, he told them that the world in which they lived would continue to be as uncertain and as unpredictable as ever. If they wanted reassurance, they would have to look beyond the structures they had come to rely on. They would have to reclaim their hope in God. It may seem like a strange response on Jesus’ part. But I think Jesus was pointing them to something beyond what they felt they could “manage.” He pointed them beyond the safety and stability they had come to rely on in their daily lives. He reminded them that none of those things are ultimately reliable. Rather, he reminded them that God, the promises God had made, and the hope all that creates for us, are the only things we can truly rely on in this life. As Jesus told them, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away” (Lk 21:33).

That brings us back to the hope of Advent. In our worship today, we sang the verse from the hymn “O Little Town of Bethlehem” that said “the hopes and fears of all the years” were “met” in that village on the night of Jesus’ birth. I think we can easily imagine the “hopes of all the years” fulfilled in Jesus’ birth, but what about the “fears”? I’m no specialist in the history of hymns, but I would think that the idea is that the birth of Jesus relieves the “fears of all the years.” The hope that Jesus brought into this world is one that helps us overcome all our fears, especially in uncertain times. It’s the hope that God’s love for us never fails, and that’s something we can rely on when everything else around us does fail. It’s the hope that God’s promises stand forever, and that God will not stop working in this world until every promise has been fulfilled. Most of us pin our hopes on some part of our lives here and now that we want to continue just as it is. But life is always changing. It is the hope we have in God through Jesus our Savior that we can rely on through all the years. That hope remains; that hope will not pass away; that hope will see us through this year, and all the years of our lives!

Monday, July 13, 2020

Planting Seeds

Matthew 13:1-23[1]

There are some vocations that I think by definition can be discouraging. I think teachers must face this challenge. You go into teaching out of a sense of idealism about making a difference in the younger generation. And unless you’re very fortunate, you may wind up spending your days trying to teach kids who are much more interested in everything but learning. I would think it would be very easy to become cynical about the prospects of making a difference in the world.

I know for a fact that the same thing applies to ministers. Like teachers, many go into the ministry out of a deep sense of idealism about making a difference in the world. They go through a seminary program that raises their awareness about biblical mandates regarding social justice, about the joys of deeply spiritual worship, and about the latest strategies for reaching the neediest people in the community. And they get into the church and find out that people can be more interested in which hymnal they’re using, or in making and enforcing ever more specific rules on everybody else, or in keeping all the “squeaky wheels” happy. And they work hard each week with the Scriptures trying to discern a fresh and inspiring message, only to wonder if anybody is listening at all! Ministry is definitely a vocation that by definition can be incredibly discouraging.

But the reality is that the same thing can be said for Christian living. Most of us embrace the faith in some sense or another out of a feeling of “ought-ness” or a vision to make a difference in the way the world works. And you identify with a congregation and a denomination and find your way onto the session, only to find out that the leaders may spend more time fighting about décor and money than attempting any kind of mission to save the world. It can be incredibly discouraging. But you find your niche in mission and you keep going through the motions month after month and year after year, until you wake up one day so incredibly discouraged from a lack of results that you wonder if you ever really believed in God in the first place!

To some extent, the parable of the sower addresses this aspect of the Christian faith. When we seek to go out and make a difference in the world—whether in church service or in another vocation—we’re very much like the sower, planting seeds as we go. Now, planting seeds these days is quite different from planting seeds in Jesus’ day. These days we have it down to a science when and how and what kind of seeds to plant. In Jesus’ day, planting seeds was much more like life. You scatter seeds all over the place, hoping some of them will take root and grow and bear fruit. Despite that difference, most farmers still know what Jesus was talking about—the quality of the soil makes all the difference in the quantity of the harvest. These days we can even get crops to grow on bad soil. In Jesus’ day, you had to just make do with what you got.

Of course, Jesus wasn’t really talking about agriculture. Among other things, he was trying to warn those who followed him out of a sense of personal commitment to a world of justice and peace and freedom that not all the seeds they planted would bear fruit. There are lots of times when sowing does not lead to reaping. Instead of rejoicing while “bringing in the sheaves,” we find ourselves just sowing and weeping and sowing some more. Despite some of the lofty sounding promises in the Bible, you just can’t always count on results, no matter how hard you try. Obedience doesn’t always mean rewards, even if the Psalmist says it does. Faithfulness doesn’t guarantee results. Sometimes we find ourselves planting seeds and not reaping a harvest.

One of the notions that drives religious perfectionism is the idea that obedience automatically brings rewards. If we do what we’re supposed to, if we live like we’re supposed to, then our lives will be free from suffering and all our dreams will come true. Just the very action of identifying ourselves with faith and the gospel means that we’re on Jesus’ side and we will go from one success to another. But this pipe dream doesn’t live up to reality. In fact, it oftentimes leads to discouragement and even bitterness.

The truth of our lives is that we never know how the seeds we’ve planted will fare. We can never really know all the results our efforts for the sake of the kingdom of God will bear. That’s why Henri Nouwen said that we must plant our seeds in the hope that there really is “light on the other side of darkness.”[2] That means that, even though we find ourselves sowing without reaping, we keep right on planting those gospel seeds, seeds of mercy and kindness, seeds of love and justice, seeds of peace and freedom. We do it because one day some of those seeds are going to bear fruit.

[2] Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer, 76.

Tuesday, November 05, 2019

In the Power of God

2 Timothy 1:1-14[1]

One of the great challenges of life is what to do when it feels like your values are under attack. For most of my life, I have heard people say that the Christian faith is under attack in our country. I’m not so sure I would agree with that sentiment. I know that there are some who speak against religion in general. Ironically, I would say Jesus echoed some of their criticisms of religion. In our day, it seems to me that the greater problem is that the Christian faith has become irrelevant. I don’t think that’s the fault of the faith, mind you. I think that’s because of the way “church people” like us represent the Christian faith. Or perhaps it would be better to say that we fail to represent the faith.

Unfortunately, part of what happens when we think of ourselves as under attack is that we go into a “defensive” mode. When we see ourselves as the victims of attack, it’s easy to see threats where none exist. When we go into this “defensive” mode, one thing we do is pull back from engaging people who are “other.” We retreat to the safety of our “own” group. And we have certain “litmus tests” to be able to make sure someone really is a part of our group. Whether it’s a list of beliefs, or certain stances on social issues, or sheer tribalism (where we trust only those of our own race, creed, and nation), this kind of stance makes it hard to live out our faith in the world.

That was the situation to which 2 Timothy was addressed. Timothy and the believers in his care were discouraged. It would seem that they found themselves in a setting where the challenge of living the Christian life was getting them down. As a result, they were retreating into a mode of “guarding” themselves, of “avoiding” those who were perceived to be a threat, and of drawing lines to keep out those who were on the “outside.” It’s hard to understand why they turned in on themselves this way, but it would seem that the underlying problem was that they were struggling with a sense of being ashamed of their faith (2 Tim. 1:8).

This may seem strange to us. Apparently Timothy and the band of struggling believers he was serving were feeling ashamed because they were losing out to competitors preaching a different gospel. We don’t know all that these “impostors” stood for, but what we do know is that they imposed strict demands on their converts’ behavior, while indulging their own desires to do whatever they pleased. They wormed their way into congregations, and then milked the people for money. It would seem Timothy and his flock felt ashamed of the gospel because these “impostors” were so successful at gaining converts, while they were struggling to survive. As a result, they had gone into a “defensive” mode.

Unfortunately, there are aspects of 2 Timothy that seem to positively encourage this retreat into a “defensive” mode. The Scripture actually uses language that I would say only reinforced their natural inclination to withdraw from perceived threats. It advises the believers to “guard” themselves, to “avoid” and “shun” others, to mark off those who are not a part of the “chosen,” and to effectively “consign” others to their fate. Much of this language is reactive, not proactive. It doesn’t sound very much like Jesus’ challenge to courageous discipleship!

But there are other ideas here that are more helpful. First, Timothy is encouraged to “rekindle the gift of God” (2 Tim. 1:6). The image here is of fanning the embers of a fire that is no longer burning. There is still heat in the coals, but they have to be coaxed into actively burning again. In the face of discouragement, Timothy was challenged to “tend the fire” of his calling and gifts. I think at least a part of that meant for him to remind himself who it was who called and gifted him in the first place.

Second, Timothy is reminded that “God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline” (2 Tim. 1:7). This is one of those passages where I think the King James translators got it right: the spirit God has given us is one of “power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” In other words, the charge to Timothy was to recognize that it was the Spirit of God who gave him the power and love and good sense to be able to face the challenges that came his way. He didn’t face these hardships alone, but rather the way for him to fulfill his life and his service was by “relying on the power of God” (2 Tim. 1:8).

I think that this advice to Timothy can help us as well. The Bible tells us that each and every one of us has been given a “gift of God” with which to serve others. That means that living a life of faith and service is not a “self-help” project. Rather, we live and serve through the gifts God has given us. And sometimes we have to “tend the fire” of our calling and gifts. More than that, however, we do not fulfill the life of discipleship to Christ in our own strength alone. Rather, the Scriptures make it clear that we have all received the Spirit of God, who gives us more than enough power and love and good sense to be able to follow the path of faith no matter what we may face along the way.

While I don’t believe it’s helpful for us to think of ourselves as “under attack,” it’s clearly the case that striving to live the Christian life and to give of ourselves in service to Christ is a path that can be discouraging at times. It can feel as if we’re constantly swimming against the stream, and we can grow weary with fatigue. But the Scriptures continually remind us that we don’t serve in our own strength alone. We serve with the power and love and good sense that God gives us. We fulfill our calling to live for Christ and to serve others by “relying on the power of God.”

Tuesday, October 09, 2018

Pioneer of Salvation

Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12[1]

When you think about what the original pioneers who settled this land went through, it is amazing what they accomplished. I’ve made several cross-country moves in my life. That kind of move is challenging for most of us to consider. But we have the benefit of knowing that we can make the trip in the relative comfort and safety of a car, never too far from fuel and food and a motel to spend the night. The original pioneers had none of that. Those who first blazed the trail westward didn’t even know if they were on the right track. Those who followed the trails after they were reasonably well marked were risking everything when they took the journey. It is truly amazing to think about what they accomplished.

When you consider what motivated the pioneers to make such a journey, I’m sure you would find a variety of answers. Some were looking for the promise of prosperity. Others were just looking for a place to settle and raise a family. Whatever motivated them, I have to wonder whether they knew what they were in for. The stories of the pioneers make it clear that some did not. They were not prepared for the hardships and sacrifices required to carve a livelihood out of the wilderness. It’s hard to imagine that any of them were fully prepared for what lay ahead. But some of them persevered, and they made it possible for others to follow, and to settle this land.

Our scripture lesson from Hebrews for today speaks of Jesus as the “pioneer of our salvation.” It’s a unique way of understanding Jesus. In fact, this theme is only found in the Letter to the Hebrews. I think it likely that has something to do with the context in which the letter was written. Christians faced increasing opposition to their faith. Many were becoming discouraged and losing heart due to the hardships they faced on a constant basis. The Letter to the Hebrews was written to encourage them to persevere in their faith despite the obstacles they lived with.

In that setting, the Scripture speaks of Jesus as the “pioneer of our salvation” (Heb. 2:10). The idea is that Jesus has “blazed the trail” for us to experience salvation. He has opened the way for us to know God in a life-changing way. But Hebrews not only calls Jesus the “pioneer of our salvation.” The Scripture also speaks of him as “pioneer and perfecter of our faith” (Heb. 12:2). The idea is that he not only blazed the trail for us, but he has also completed the journey, and stands as a living example of how we can complete our journey—by following him in single-minded devotion to God’s will and ways.

I find it remarkable that in both settings where the Letter to the Hebrews speaks of Jesus as the pioneer of our faith, suffering plays a significant role. In our lesson for today, the Scripture speaks of Jesus being “perfected” for that task through what he suffered. Specifically, he tasted death for us all in order to open the way for us to God. Again, in the other setting where this theme occurs, those to whom the letter was addressed were encouraged to look to Jesus and what he endured on the cross as encouragement to “run with perseverance the race that is set before us” (Heb. 12:1). And so, as the pioneer of our salvation, Jesus continues to encourage us to finish our pilgrimage of faith—a journey that will last our whole lives.

I’m not sure we realize it, but I would say that we all are like the pioneers in some ways. We, too, are “on the way,” taking the journey of faith. And while we have many examples to follow, each of us has a unique path to take. For most of us, we really have no idea where that path is going to lead us. And none of us can know what hardships or sacrifices we will encounter on the way. I think it’s safe to say, however, that all of us will come to a time in our journey of faith where what we have to endure on the way will leave us discouraged. It’s common to find ourselves, after having worked so hard for so long, to simply grow weary of the journey.

In a very real sense, this not only applies to us as individuals. It also applies to us as a church family. Like most churches these days, we find ourselves trekking into a wilderness of sorts. The landscape in which the church finds itself situated in this culture is one that has changed dramatically, and those who are open enough to be aware of this change find themselves blazing a trail into the future of what the church will become in this strange new world. At this point, I would say that none of us can say where this journey will lead or what the church will look like as we adapt to a new environment along the way.

It’s not easy to be a pioneer. It takes constant commitment to persevere along a difficult path. It’s easy to get discouraged and lose heart along the way. Fortunately, none of us has to make this pilgrimage of faith on our own. Most of us have the encouragement of friends and family as we face the hardships of the journey. We also have the encouragement of the family of faith to help us along. But perhaps more importantly, we can look to Jesus when we lose heart. As the “pioneer of our salvation,” Jesus has marked out the path. As the “perfecter of our faith” he has shown us how to complete the journey, and he continually encourages us as we seek to finish the path. We are not left to make this journey alone. As the “pioneer of salvation,” Jesus leads us to our final destination.

Monday, October 01, 2018

Not in the Drama

1 Kings 19:1-15a[1]

One of the effects of our preoccupation with what we see on various screens is that we tend to be fascinated with celebrities. Whether they are actors or politicians or athletes, anyone who has any kind of presence on a screen seems to have a larger-than-life persona. For some reason, the “lifestyles of the rich and famous” seem to grab our attention. Of course, it would seem that many celebrities go out of the way to attract headlines and exposure. Whether they actively seek publicity or not, the fact of the matter is that none of them are truly “larger than life.” They are human beings, flawed and fallible, just like the rest of us. Sometimes the drama in their lives that gets reported so often simply serves to demonstrate their humanity.

I think we may have a similar attitude towards the leading characters of the Bible. Prophets like Moses and Elijah stand out for the extraordinary feats they accomplished. I think we like to see them as uncompromising people who rise above the level of ordinary human beings. Their dramatic personalities only seem to confirm for us that these are no ordinary servants of God. But if you read the Bible carefully, you find evidence of their humanity written into the stories about them. Our lesson for today provides us with an example.

The prophet Elijah comes fresh from what would appear to be a great victory. He has challenged the prophets of Baal to a contest to determine whom the people would serve as God. Each of them were to prepare an altar with a sacrifice and call on their gods to consume the offering by fire. While the prophets of Baal cried out fervently most of the day, nothing happened. Late in the afternoon, Elijah prayed a simple prayer, and not only the sacrifice, but the altar and everything around it were consumed by fire. It was meant to convince Israel to be faithful to God alone.

More than that, Elijah was responsible for the fact that there had been a drought in Israel for three years. Needless to say, he wasn’t the most popular prophet around in those days. After defeating—and slaughtering—the prophets of Baal, Elijah notified the King of Israel, a godless man named Ahab, that the drought was over. And after three years, the rains came back. It would seem that Elijah had demonstrated the power of God in two dramatic events. You would think that he would be celebrating his success as God’s prophet.

But in our lesson for today, we find an episode that “blatantly” demonstrates Elijah’s humanity.^{^[2]} In the face of a threat on his life by the Queen, Elijah flees into the wilderness. He makes it a day’s journey before he collapses. And when he does, he prays a prayer that seems strange for so powerful a prophet of God. He prays to die, saying “I am no better than my ancestors” (1 Kings 19:4). I have to wonder what inspired that prayer. It would seem that Elijah was disappointed with God because none of his dramatic displays made the difference in the people of Israel he had expected. Perhaps Elijah thought that the people would return to the Lord as soon as they saw the dramatic signs he had performed. But that’s not what happened.

Despite Elijah’s pessimism, the “angel of the LORD” gave him rest and food for a long journey into the wilderness to the “mount of God.” There, Elijah was permitted to present his complaint to God “in person,” so to speak. And when the LORD asks Elijah, “what are you doing here?” Elijah’s response is a classic expression of self-pity: “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away” (1 Kings 19:10). It doesn’t sound much like what you’d expect to hear from a bold prophet of the LORD fresh from two apparent “victories”!

In response, the LORD teaches Elijah two important lessons. First came a powerful wind, then an earthquake, and then a fire. But each time, the Scripture says, “the Lord was not in it.” Finally, there came “a sound of sheer silence” (1 Kings 19:12). Elijah came out and found that was where the Lord was. He repeated his complaint, word for word. God’s answer to him was, “Go, return on your way.” I think one lesson was that God is not to be found in the drama of altars consumed by fire, but rather in the patience of faithfully serving him. Later, God assured Elijah he wasn’t the only one left: he said that there were 7,000 in Israel who remained faithful to him. I think the second lesson for Elijah is that it wasn’t all up to him!

When we see how the “movers and the shakers” in our world throw their weight around, we can feel pretty small and weak in comparison. We may think, as Elijah did, that we’re just not up to the task of working for God’s kingdom of peace, justice and freedom. But I think we can draw on the lessons Elijah learned that day in the wilderness. In our day as in his, the success of God’s kingdom is not up to us. That’s God’s business. Our job is to seek to faithfully serve him to the best of our ability. I think the other lesson Elijah learned can help us as well. In a day when celebrities constantly grab the headlines, and everything bigger is seemingly better, even in the church, I think it’s important for us to be reminded that God is not in all the drama. Rather, God is in the quiet, steadfast, faithful efforts of those who continue to serve him.

[2] Cf. Choon-Leong Seow, “The First and Second Books of Kings,” New Interpreter’s Bible III:145.

Wednesday, March 07, 2018

Something Different

Luke 1:26-38[1]

The “preacher” of the book of Ecclesiastes said it centuries ago: “There is nothing new under the sun” (Eccl. 1:9). To some extent, that can be a comfort to us. We rely on routines and familiarity in our daily lives. We can see how much we depend on things staying the same when we have go through any kind of major change. It’s like a shock to our whole system: we feel the stress of a major change in our bodies. And it takes time to adjust to a “new normal” when life throws us that kind of curve. Sometimes even years. For most of us the words, “there is nothing new under the sun,” feel reassuring.

But that’s not the way the “preacher” of Ecclesiastes meant them. It was one of the ways he lamented the meaninglessness he saw in life. The sum of the book is that he examined every aspect of human life and found it to be “vanity and a chasing after wind” (Eccl. 1:14). It may be surprising to find something like that in the Bible, but there are actually quite a few expressions of disappointment. From Job to Jeremiah, from the Psalms to the Prophets, biblical writers do on occasion express their disappointment with God. In specific, they complain to God when life’s realities seem to invalidate God’s promises. Through the centuries, many have lamented that life seems in vain.

Our Gospel lesson for today recounts the story of something very different. It is, of course, the story of the angel Gabriel and his encounter with Mary in which he gives her some surprising news. She was going bear a son, who would inherit the throne of David. Of course, she didn’t understand this announcement, because she was thinking about the normal way children are conceived. And I’m sure the idea that any child she might bear would inherit the throne of David must have seemed far-fetched to her. She and her fiancé Joseph were not the kind of people who could expect to raise a King!

If that were as far as the story had gone, it would have been a remarkable event, but not something different from what had already gone before. There had been many in the line of David who had occupied his throne. Each and every one of them was considered to be the “son of God” by virtue of being anointed King. That didn’t mean they were divine, it simply meant that they were special servants of God. Even the promise that “He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end” (Lk. 1:33) was nothing new. It was the essence of the original promise made to David in 2 Samuel 7:12-14. Despite that promise, many heirs to David’s throne had come and gone, and the kingdom with no end was nowhere to be seen.

But there was something different going on here, as Gabriel proceeded to explain. Her child was not going to be just another “son of David,” like the many who had gone before. Gabriel answered her question about how she could possible bear a child by saying that “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you” (Lk. 1:35). That’s not a very scientific explanation for what was going to happen to her, but it was a theological one. Gabriel was telling her that her child was going to be different from all the others who had come before him.

This son of David was not only going to be “called” the “son of God” in honor of his special service as King. I’m aware that in both of Gabriel’s statements, he says “he will be called” “the Son of the Most High” and “Son of God.” But in this context, it’s clear that “Son of the Most High” and “Son of God” were more than just titles he would take to himself, like many Kings in that day. Rather, Mary’s child would actually be “the Son of the Most High” and the “Son of God.” This was something unique. This was something very different from what had happened with David’s heirs throughout the centuries.

And a part of the good news of this announcement is that because this child would indeed be “the Son of the Most High,” the implication is that he would have the ability to actually fulfill the promise of reigning over a kingdom that has no end. Where many heirs to David’s throne before him had failed, this child would succeed. They failed because they broke their covenant with God. He would keep that covenant, and would usher in a kingdom without end—not the kingdom of David, or the kingdom of Israel, but the Kingdom of God for all people.

I’m afraid that when we look at our world, at our lives, and even at the church, it can be very easy to conclude that “there is nothing new under the sun.” Those who have no qualms about bullying others seem to get their way. Human ego and selfishness taints everything from family to work to church. It can lead some to conclude that there’s really no point to it all. But the birth of Jesus was something different from all that. His entry into this world marked the beginning of something new that God was doing with the human family. Because he is the “Son of the Most High,” he is different from all who came before. He truly reigns over a kingdom without end, a kingdom that makes a great deal of difference in many lives, and will continue to do so until all things have become whole and new.

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

When the Time is Right

When The Time is Right

Matthew 13:1-9[1]

There are times in our lives when we need to make changes, and there are other times when we need to stay the course. That’s as true for churches as it is for anybody else. These days, everybody seems to be talking about the changes that need to be made for the church in this culture to thrive. And I would agree that we always need to be evaluating what we do, asking ourselves why we’re doing it, and looking for new ways of serving the Kingdom of God that might be more effective. But I don’t hear a lot these days about what the church needs to keep on doing. I think that’s at least as important as what we may need to change.

I think one reason why it’s more attractive to talk about change is because the Christian life can be incredibly discouraging. Most of us embrace the faith in some sense or another out of a feeling of “ought-ness” or a vision to make a difference in the way the world works. And you identify with a congregation and a denomination and find your way onto the session, only to find out that the leaders may spend more time fighting about décor and money than attempting any kind of mission to save the world. It can be incredibly discouraging. But you find your niche in mission and you stay the course month after month and year after year, until you wake up one day so incredibly discouraged from a lack of results that you wonder if God has forgotten you!

To some extent, the parable of the sower addresses this aspect of the Christian faith. When we seek to go out and make a difference in the world, we’re very much like the sower, planting seeds as we go. Now, planting seeds these days is quite different from planting seeds in Jesus’ day. These days we have it down to a science when and how and what kind of seeds to plant. In Jesus’ day, planting seeds was much more like life. You scatter seeds all over the place, hoping some of them will take root and grow and bear fruit. In spite of that difference, most farmers still know what Jesus was talking about—the quality of the soil makes all the difference in the quantity of the harvest. These days we can even get crops to grow on bad soil; In Jesus’ day, you had to just make do with what you got.

Of course, Jesus wasn’t really talking about agriculture. Among other things, he was trying to warn those who followed him out of a sense of personal commitment to the vision of a world of justice and peace and freedom that he inspired in them that not all the seeds they planted would bear fruit. There are lots of times when sowing does not lead to reaping.^{^[2]} Instead of rejoicing while “bringing in the sheaves,” we find ourselves just sowing and weeping and sowing some more. Despite some of the lofty sounding promises in the Bible, you just can’t always count on results, no matter how hard you try. Obedience doesn’t always mean rewards. Faithfulness doesn’t guarantee results. Sometimes we find ourselves sowing and not reaping.

We like to think that if we do what we’re supposed to, if we live like we’re supposed to, then we should see some results. But this kind of thinking often leads to discouragement and even bitterness. As Henri Nouwen put it, the very expectation that our faithful sowing of seeds ought to lead to reaping a harvest can lead to the resentment of bitterness when the results fail to appear.^{^[3]} That’s why he said that we must sow our seeds in the hope that can enable us to look past our results or lack of results to the ultimate fulfillment of God’s purpose.^{^[4]} That means that, even though we find ourselves sowing without reaping, we keep right on sowing gospel seeds, seeds of mercy and kindness, seeds of love and justice, seeds of peace and freedom. We do it because one day some of those seeds are going to bear fruit.

There is a time for change, and there is a time for staying the course. In a very real sense, I think the church is always in both at the same time. Our world is changing so fast around us that we always have to be thinking about how we can do things differently. But while we’re doing that, I think we’re called to stay the course when it comes to the fundamentals: prayer, scripture, worship, service, compassion. These facets of our life together as Christian brothers and sisters have always been essential to the vitality of the church. While we’re changing the way we do things, we must stay the course laid out for us by Jesus and the Apostles. As the Apostle Paul says it, when we do so, “At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don't give up” (Gal. 6:9, The Message).

[2] M. Eugene Boring, “The Gospel According to Matthew,” New Interpreter’s Bible VIII:306.

[3] Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer, 76. He says that laboring on the basis of “expectations of concrete results, however conceived, is like building a house on sand instead of solid rock.”

[4] Nouwen, Wounded Healer, 76: “Hope makes it possible to look beyond the fulfillment of urgent wishes and pressing desires and offers a vision beyond human suffering and even death.”

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Alpha and Omega

Revelation 1:1-8[1]

The central affirmation of Easter is that by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, God has once and for all vindicated him as Lord of all. But you and I live in a world in which we are surrounded by images and messages that contradict that central element of our faith. Between Hollywood and Washington, DC and Wall Street, the combined effect is to make it clear that Jesus is essentially irrelevant in our culture. The “lords” of our society are those with the most money, or the most power, or the strongest celebrity appeal. And they don’t typically promote the ideals that Jesus taught. The movies we watch, the athletes we cheer, the advertisements on TV, even the music we listen to proclaim the message that the survival of the strongest and the wealthiest and the most attractive is the true reality in our world.

It may be hard for us to recognize this because it has so thoroughly worked its way into the fabric of almost every aspect of our culture. If you ever find yourself in the Mall, compare the images of people that the stores use to sell their products with the actual people around you. There’s not much similarity. In fact, the “appearance” that our culture promotes couldn’t be further from who we are as a people. But we’ve gotten so used to seeing people with perfect teeth and hair and eyes and bodies trying to sell us everything from cars to clothes to prescriptions that we don’t even notice the subtle message that conveys to us: if you don’t look like this, or have this kind of wealth, you don’t really count.

This was the context into which the Book of Revelation was written. The Christian faith was definitely a minority in the Roman Empire. Christians would either rise before dawn or stay up late at night to worship Jesus as Lord. There was no such thing as a weekend or a Sabbath day in the Roman world. Every day was a work day. And as those believers made their way to homes to worship Jesus as Lord, all around them were images that proclaimed that Zeus was lord, or Caesar was Lord.[2] They, too, lived in a world that was dominated by images of the “powers that be” that contradicted the heart of their faith and the teachings to which they had devoted themselves, sometimes at great peril to their lives.

It is to that setting that the Book of Revelation was addressed. This unique part of the Bible was not written to enable the “fortune tellers” of our age to predict the coming of Christ or the end of the world. Rather it was written to the Christians of that day, living in a world that contradicted their faith.[3] One of the major purposes of this part of Scripture that so many of us avoid was to provide struggling believers with images of a different reality, a reality in which God is the one who rules over all things with “wisdom, power, and love.” Unfortunately, It’s easy to lose sight of the forest for the trees in the Book of Revelation. Much of the symbolism seems strange to us. But at the heart of the book is the message that, despite all appearances to the contrary, God’s rule is the true reality in this world, and one day God’s rule will be fulfilled as God completes the work of making all things new.[4]

In our lesson for today, the Scripture simply hints at this by referring to God as “the Alpha and the Omega,” the one “who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.”[5] As you may know, Alpha and Omega are the first and the last letters of the Greek alphabet. So naming God as the “Alpha and the Omega” is another way of saying that God is “The First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.” In other words, we can count on the God who created all things in the beginning to make all things new in the end.[6] It’s an affirmation that we along with millions of other Christians sing every Sunday morning: “as it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end, Amen! Amen!” The God who rules over this world will be the same God at the end of all things as he was at the beginning and is now: a God of infinite love.

The other affirmation in our lesson for today is that God is the “Almighty” one. This resonates with countless statements in the Hebrew Bible about the God who is the “Lord of hosts,” or the “Lord of the angel armies”.[7] The idea is very similar to another image in the book of Revelation: God is the one who “sits on the throne,” ruling over the whole universe.[8] The purpose for this is to make clear that that God is the one whose rule is ultimately true. Despite the fact that the Roman Empire proclaimed itself as the ultimate power in the world of that day, and even demanded worship of those under its influence, the book of Revelation insists that this is an illusion that will one day be swept away.[9] And, of course, Rome’s claim to power was indeed swept away centuries ago.

We live in a world that is dominated by those who make claims that can seem just as false as the claims Rome made in ancient times. In the face of those claims the Scripture reassured the Christians of that day that God is the one who would have the last word. I think the message of Revelation for us today is the same. It stands as a reminder that we too can trust that God will see to it that his will is done on earth as it is in heaven. That means all those who (falsely) claim to wield power over the world in the present time are only deluding themselves. Their power may seem very real here and now, but ultimately, just as God’s rule had the first word at creation, so will his rule have the last word in the end. As God was in the beginning, so he ever shall be: the Alpha and Omega.

[1] © 2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 4/3/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE. An audio version of this sermon is available at http://www.hickmanpresbyterian.org/.

[2] Cf. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, 17: “Civic and religious architecture, iconography, statues, rituals and festivals, … all provided powerful visual impressions of Roman imperial power and the splendor of pagan religion. In this context, Revelation provides a set of Christian prophetic counter-images which impress on its readers a different vision of the world … . The visual power of the book effects a kind of purging of the Christian imagination, refurbishing it with alternative visions of how the world is and will be.” Cf. Craig R. Koester, Revelation, 132: “John’s message ran counter to the public rhetoric of the Roman era, which celebrated the peace and prosperity that the imperial rule had brought. According to the dominant discourse, Roman rule was invincible and benevolent.”

[3] Cf. M. Eugene Boring, Revelation, 40, where he argues that the point of apocalyptic documents like Revelation in the ancient world was not to answer the question “Will there be an end of the world?” but rather “Is God faithful?” He says that they “lived in impossible situations, … when children saw their parents imprisoned or killed because their faithfulness to their confession of Jesus as the only Lord made it impossible for them to yield to the imperial religion … .” In that situation the question was “how can one still believe in the faithfulness of God?” He continues, “It was the honor and integrity of God as God that was at stake, not just human selfish longing for golden streets and pearly gates.” Cf. Koester, Revelation, 132, where he reminds us that the setting was actually somewhat complex: “Readers who were overtly threatened would be aware of the challenges and needed encouragement to persevere, but those who were complacent or accommodating would not have sensed the problems. John would need to challenge them to see issues of which they were unaware, while calling for commitment that would set them at odds with the dominant social, religious, and economic patterns of the cities where they lived.”

[4] Cf. Bauckham, Theology of the Book of Revelation, 40: “The whole of Revelation could be regarded as a vision of the fulfillment of the first three petitions of the Lord’s Prayer: ‘Your name be hallowed, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven’ (Matt. 6:9-10). John and his readers lived in a world in which God’s name was not hallowed, his will was not done, and evil ruled through the oppression and exploitation of the Roman system of power. But in chapter 4, he sees in heaven, the sphere of ultimate reality, the absolute holiness, righteousness and sovereignty of God. From this vision of God’s name hallowed and God’s will done in heaven, it follows that his kingdom must come on earth.”

[5] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 1.2:53, where he points out, as many do, that “the one who is and who was and who is to come” is very likely an interpretation of the revelation of God’s name in Exod. 3:14; “I am who I am.” He says, “From the fact that God is He who exists and therefore is the Living One in the supreme sense and therefore the Almighty, it follows that He is not only this, but, as this, also He who was and He who cometh, Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last. And vice versa, by the fact that He is the first and the last, it is indicated that He is truly He who is. the Living One, the Almighty.”

[6] Cf. Bauckham, Theology of the Book of Revelation, 27: “God precedes all things, as their Creator, and he will bring all things to eschatological fulfillment. He is the origin and goal of all history. He has the first word, in creation, and the last word, in new creation.” Cf. also Koester, Revelation, 220: “Revelation recalls texts that stress the singular lordship of Israel’s God: ‘I am the first and the last, there is no other god but me’ (Isa 44:6; cf. 41:4; 48:12).” Cf. further Jürgen Roloff, A Continental Commentary: The Revelation of John, 28: “the God to whom [John] bears witness is the living and historically active God.”

[7] Cf. Bauckham, Theology of the Book of Revelation, 30: the designations “The Lord, the God of hosts” and “the Lord of hosts” are used especially in the prophetic books of the Hebrew Bible to indicate “Yahweh's unrivalled power over all things and therefore his supremacy over the course of historical events. … The Greek pantokrator (‘almighty’) indicates not so much God’s abstract omnipotence as his actual control over all things.” Cf. Koester, Revelation, 220: “Revelation, …, refers to God as pantokrator, ascribing to him power over all things. In Revelation God’s supreme might is expressed in his acts of creation, judgment, and righteous rule (Rev 1:8; 4:8; 18:8; 19:6; 21:22; 22:5-6).”

[8] Cf. Bauckham, Theology of the Book of Revelation, 31, where he emphasizes that the vision of God on the throne provides one of the major starting points for the whole book: “the vision of God’s sovereignty in heaven.” He continues (ibid.), saying that this “makes it possible for John to enlarge his readers’ perspective on their own situation by setting it within the broader context of God’s universal purpose of overcoming all opposition to his rule and establishing his kingdom in the world.” From the perspective of Revelation, God’s sovereign rule is “the true reality which must in the end also prevail on earth.” Cf. also Roloff, Revelation of John, 29: “whereas human rulers like to claim total dominion over the world and have themselves celebrated as rulers of history, …, in truth it is God alone to whom dominion over the world and history belongs.”

[9] Cf. Bauckham, Theology of the Book of Revelation, 34: “The Roman Empire, like most political powers in the ancient world, represented and propagated its power in religious terms. Its state religion, featuring worship both of the deified emperors and of the traditional gods of Rome, expressed political loyalty through religious worship. In this way it absolutized its power, claiming for itself the ultimate, divine sovereignty over the world.” By contrast (ibid, 35), Revelation sees the “the view of the Empire promoted by Roman propaganda” from “the perspective of heaven, which unmasks the pretensions of Rome. Revelation portrays the Roman Empire as a system of violent oppression, founded on conquest, maintained by violence and oppression. It is a system both of political tyranny and of economic exploitation.” Cf. also ibid, 39: “it was the Christian vision of the incomparable God, exalted above all worldly power, which relativized Roman power and exposed Rome’s pretensions to divinity as a dangerous delusion.”

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Future

1 Sam. 1:9-20; 2:1-10[1]

I grew up playing the game “Monopoly.” My cousins and I would play it like it was going out of style! In later years, when I actually read the rules of the game (!), I learned that we had “cheated.” You see, the game of monopoly operates in a fixed world with a closed system. There are only so many properties, only so many houses and hotels, and only so much money to go around. Now, of course, my cousins and I didn’t invent new properties on the board. But we didn’t abide by the limitations on cash and improvements. The way we played the game, if a person had the money to buy a house or hotel, they got one. And when we ran out of cash, we just made more. We created $1,000 bills and $5,000 bills and we had double hotels on Boardwalk!

When I found out that we had actually “broken” the rules, I began thinking about the world and how it operates. There are those in our world who operate from the assumption that there’s only so much to go around. What that usually means is that I have to get mine so that I don’t wind up empty-handed! And the assumption is also that it leaves others without enough. But there’s also another way of looking at things. When I shared my analogy with a friend who was in finance, he enlightened me regarding the way a market economy works. Other systems of economics operate on the basis of the fact that there’s only so much to go around. But a market economy works on the principle of creating wealth—by a starting business and tapping a previously undiscovered source of revenue.[2]

As my friend pointed out, when you look at the world from that point of view, the question of how much there is to go around doesn’t even enter the equation. In fact, it is possible that no one knows how much a market economy can generate. Instead of a principle of “hoarding,” a market economy works on the principle of “investing.” You see a niche, you come up with a business plan, and you raise the funds you need. Then you risk the whole thing in a new venture. Will it succeed? You’ll never know until you make the leap! But it is a more hopeful outlook on the future than the closed system. It reminds us that we really don’t know what good things may be in store for us in the future.

Like Naomi, Hannah was a woman who feared that her life had no hope and no future. Although she had a husband who dearly loved her, she had no children—especially no male children. It may be hard for us to understand the importance of a son in that economic system. Without a son of her own, after Elkanah died, she would be left destitute.[3] Women did not inherit property in those days—even from their own husbands. Only a son could inherit. If Hannah never bore her husband a son, she would have no one to take care of her in her old age. Even though Elkanah her husband had other sons, they were the sons of a different mother. So from Hannah’s perspective, her hope was dwindling, and her future seemed dim.

It is in that context that she goes to the Temple to pray. As she puts it to Eli, she was “deeply troubled” and praying out of her “great anxiety and vexation” (1 Sam. 1:16-17). Although Eli initially misunderstood her motives, and even accused her of being drunk (!), he blessed her with the prayer that God would grant her petition. And like Sarah, and Naomi, and many others who have felt that God had abandoned them and their future was closed, the Scriptures say that God answered her prayer and gave her a son, namely Samuel.[4] And she praised God as the one who is able to reverse any misfortune, who is able to bring hope from hopelessness and a future from despair (1 Sam. 2:1-10).[5]

What she did next was an amazing act of faith. She had promised that if God gave her a son, she would devote him to the Lord. That meant he would not be able to inherit from his father and would not be able to take care of her in her old age! But she had promised that if God would give her a son, she would devote him to God’s service, and that is what she did with Samuel. I can imagine she did so with a great deal of “fear and trembling.” But remember, this is as story about the God of hope and the future. And we are told at the end of Hannah’s song of praise that God gave her three more sons and two daughters!

I think it’s important for us to remember that God does not operate within a closed system. God is the God of hope, not the God of despair! God is the God of the future! In God’s system, the world operates based on promises that point toward a future with hope and life.[6] Promises like “I will wipe away every tear,” and “they will all know me, from the greatest to the least,” and “they will beat their swords into ploughshares,” and “I am making everything new.” The Christian faith is at heart the hope that God already doing that through Jesus Christ.[7] The Christian faith is at heart the faith that God is already doing that through the Spirit of Life poured out on all creation.[8]

One of the challenges of living as a small church in this society is that it can feel like we’ve been left out, or passed by. We can choose to live within that closed system, thinking that our best is back there somewhere in the past, wondering whether we have a future at all. Or we can embrace an open future, and operate on the basis of the faith that God is continually at work around and among us—which means our future is alive and full of promise because we have no idea what God can do in this congregation and in this community. I prefer to embrace this open future. I hope you will join me as we entrust ourselves and our congregation to the God of our risen Lord Jesus Christ, the God who is making all things new through his Spirit, the God who is God the God of hope and the future.

[2] Cf. “Market Economy” at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Market_economy .

[3] Marjorie Menaul, “1 Samuel 1 and 2,” Interpretation 55 (Apr 2001):174

[4] Cf. Bruce C. Birch “The First and Second Books of Samuel,” New Interpreters Bible II:997: “By trusting her plight to God, Hannah claimed the new future God can make possible to those in barren, hopeless circumstances. Her story has roots in Israel’s past. God had remembered Rachel, and she had been given a child (Gen 30:22). God had remembered the Hebrews in bondage in Egypt (Exod 2:24) and delivered them into new life as a people. Hannah opens her misery and need to God and asks for God to remember her”

[5] Cf. William A. Dyrness, “Waiting in Hope,” The Christian Century (Nov 2, 1994):1011. Cf. also Menaul, “ 1 and 2 Samuel,” 176: “As the Bible bears witness, the work of God in reversing poor and rich, powerless and powerful, barren and fertile has been going on from the beginning.” Cf. further, Birch, “First and Second Books of Samuel,” NIB II:983: “Hannah’s hope becomes hope for Israel and for us that power is not irrevocably tilted in favor of those the world defines as powerful—definitions that leave many powerless and without hope. Hannah sings of a God whose transforming power can reverse those patterns. She sings of a God who does not accept the world’s power arrangements. She sings of a God whose might is not wielded in a disinterested fashion. God is heavily invested in the welfare of the weak, the powerless, the poor, the hungry, the dispossessed, the barren.”

[6] Jürgen Moltmann, Theology of Hope, 24-25.

[7] Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ, 26-27, 28, 30, 32-33.

[8] Jürgen Moltmann, Church in the Power of the Spirit, 191.

The Waking Dreamer