The Waking Dreamer: Gospel of John

Showing posts with label Gospel of John. Show all posts

Thursday, May 14, 2026

Just Believe?

John 14:1-11[1]

John 3:16 may be one of the most widely known Bible verses of all time. I remember watching pro football games back in the 1970’s, and there was always someone in the endzone, usually squarely in the middle of the camera when it came to the extra point, with a sign that simply read “John 3:16.” I don’t know how effective that method may have been for directing anyone to faith in Jesus Christ, but it was always there. Perhaps less effective than you might imagine, but more effective than you might think. I’m not sure how many people ever took the time to even look up John 3:16: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” But John 3:16 was everywhere. It seemed like the assumption was that if people would just read that verse, and just believe it, they would be “saved.”

One problem with that approach is that whenever you take any verse out of its context, you can make it say whatever you want. I would certainly say that’s what’s happened to one of the verses from our Gospel lesson for today, John 14:6. At least in the modern history of the church, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one can come to the Father except through me” has been treated a lot like John 3:16. Again, I think the assumption is that if people would just read this verse, profess their faith in Jesus (like we do), go to church (like we do), and conform to certain expectations about how they live (like we do), then they can have eternal life. But then we tend to take it further and assume that if people don’t do this, they’re rejecting Jesus and they’ve condemned themselves to an eternity in “hell.” In my mind, that turns this verse on its head. Instead of focusing on Jesus being “the way, the truth, and the life,” and that the life he brings is for “all people” (Jn 1:4), we shift the focus to “no one can come to the Father except through me.” And the result is that a verse that was meant to reassure Jesus’ disciples gets turned into something that excludes people who don’t believe (like we do).

Part of the problem is that it misses the whole point of what Jesus was trying to accomplish. When we look at this verse in the context of the chapter, and even in the context of John’s Gospel as a whole, some things should stand out. First, we should recognize the opening verses. They’re used in most memorial services. Especially Jn 14:3, “if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.” The whole extended dialogue in John 13-16 is set during Jesus’ last supper with his disciples. And it’s clear that he’s preparing them for the fact that he was about to die on the cross, perhaps literally the next day! I think Jesus knew that would shatter their faith. So he sets about giving them assurance that would see them through that crisis. He tells them things like “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you” (Jn 14:27) and “I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you” (Jn 16:22).

One of the central themes of this dialogue is that all of this was necessary to complete the work of opening the way for us all to come to the Father. In the process of giving his disciples this assurance, we see Jesus engaging with them on some pretty serious questions they had about it all. When Jesus assures them that they all knew the way to where he was going, Thomas says, “We have no idea where you are going, so how can we know the way?” (Jn 14:5). And when Jesus tries to assure them that they have already come to know the Father through him, Philip seems to miss the point altogether! He says, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied” (Jn 14:8)! These are Jesus’ closest followers. The ones he would commission to take the good news to the whole world. And they don’t seem to understand the first thing about any of it. And Jesus responds to their struggles by meeting them where they are and helping them work through their questions.

That’s quite different from what passes for evangelism in too many cases these days. The standard approach is to throw a few isolated Bible verses at someone and then pressure them into “just believing” like we do. I know, because I had to learn that approach for a class on evangelism in seminary. That phrase, “just believe” reminds me of what Jesus said in response to Philip: “Just believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me” (Jn 14:11, NLT). But that can be a tall order! Just taking what that verse says as an example, I’m not sure any of us really understands how it is that Jesus of Nazareth could be “fully human” and “fully God” at the same time. Perhaps that can help us recognize that much of our faith will always remain a mystery that defies explanation. That may be one reason why some people are slower to believe than we may think they should be. They may just have a hard time wrapping their heads around the message of the gospel.

It seems to me that we should be a lot more hesitant about making assumptions regard the faith of those who are “outside” the church (or their lack thereof)! If we can’t wrap our heads around this basic affirmation, that Jesus is in the Father and the Father is in him, how can we judge anyone for their so-called “lack of faith” in what we may think is the simple “truth” of the Gospel? It’s so easy for us to assume that everyone “should” believe like we do. But you may have heard that phrase that I used earlier: “like we do.” I used that phrase on purpose. It’s easy for us to assume that everyone “should” believe “like we do.” But people come from all kinds of backgrounds. And those experiences shape how they view faith. I’ve known people who’ve been deeply hurt by their own church family, and they never returned to church because of that. Others simply approach faith differently, and the “just believe” line doesn’t work for them. Some people can’t get past childhood trauma they may have experienced. When you dig deeply enough, you can usually find that someone who doesn’t believe (like we do) has some pretty big reasons for their struggle with faith.

Beyond that, it seems to me that it’s not our business to judge other people based on what we perceive to be their “lack of faith.” It strikes me as really quite unkind and disrespectful to assume that we know the condition of another person’s relationship with God because we think that they “lack” faith. At least that’s the way it felt to me back in the day when I was the one trying to “fix” someone’s “lack of faith” by “throwing” Bible verses at them and expecting them to “just believe”! More than that, if as Paul reminds us (Eph 2:8-9), faith comes to all of us as a gift from God, then perhaps we should be more empathetic with those who may struggle to believe. Perhaps we should follow Jesus’ lead in dealing with his own disciples and try to meet people where they are. When we take the time to actually listen to their story, to really hear their questions, and to understand their challenges with faith, we can demonstrate God’s love for them by the way we treat them. That’s not a very quick method for “winning souls for Christ.” But building a caring relationship with them can become the foundation for sharing our faith in a way that they might just be able to hear and take to heart. Different people respond to different approaches to faith. Maybe this is one we should consider when dealing with some who have a hard time coming to faith.

[1] © Alan Brehm 2026. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 5/3/2026 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, May 05, 2026

Looking for What God is Doing

John 9:1-7, 13-41[1]

We turn to faith for comfort. That’s one of the main roles faith plays in our lives. It offers us comfort when the realities of life can feel like they’re too much to bear. That’s why we love Scripture passages like Psalm 23. It’s a beautiful expression of the comfort our faith offers us. But when we only look to faith for comfort, it’s too easy to focus only our ourselves, and lose sight of those around us. That’s why our faith also challenges us. Faith that’s worth its salt not only offers us comfort, it also challenges us to see the suffering of our sisters and brothers in the human family. Especially those who suffer the most in this world, the very ones we may prefer not to see. When we let our faith turn in on itself, it becomes too easy to convince ourselves that their suffering is somehow their own fault. Instead of seeing them as beloved children of God who are suffering in the same way we all can suffer, which can be a scary thought, we convince ourselves that they must have done something to bring it on themselves. The idea that they must have done something to deserve their suffering somehow assures us that it won’t happen to us. But in the process, we let our desire for comfort and safety blind us to the compassion God wants us to give to the people who suffer the most in this world.

Our Gospel lesson for today addresses this issue. It’s the story about Jesus’ encounter with a man who had been born blind. But the irony is that it turns the tables on how we might expect the story to go. In this story, the “religious” people who claimed that they could see were in fact blind. They were blind to the compassion of God, they were blind to truth that Jesus restored this man’s sight. But it was a man who was despised as an ignorant vagrant was the one who was able to see what they couldn’t or wouldn’t see. The narrator emphasizes this irony by calling the one Jesus healed “the man who had formerly been blind.” But irony is that in this story, he was the one who was able to see the truth about Jesus. On the other hand, the “religious” people were blinded because of their assumptions.

The basic assumption in this story that blinded the “religious” people is that anyone who is suffering must have done something to deserve it. That’s an assumption that we still make. In the Gospel story, it was Jesus’ own disciples who voiced this assumption, asking, “who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (John 9:2). The very fact that he had been born blind meant that someone had to have done something wrong to cause his suffering. But Jesus exploded the centuries-old myth that suffering comes from sin. I like the way Gene Peterson translates Jesus’ response in The Message: “You’re asking the wrong question. You're looking for someone to blame. There is no such cause-effect here. Look instead for what God can do” (John 9:3, MSG).

The hard truth is that we live in a world where any kind of suffering can affect anyone at any time. And we tend to use rationalizations like “they must have brought it on themselves” to assure ourselves that we won’t have to suffer the same pain! But Jesus turns all that on its head. He says that the suffering people experience in this world isn’t about blaming or shaming. Rather, it’s an opportunity for those of us who claim to follow him to demonstrate “the works of God” (John 9:4): kindness, compassion, and mercy! The suffering that people endure is an opportunity for us to “look instead for what God can do” (John 9:3, MSG), even and especially in the worst of the pain people can suffer!

Because Jesus healed “the man who had formerly been blind” on the Sabbath day, the religious people believed he had “broken” the Sabbath and therefore he must have been a “sinner” (John 9:16). They believed that following their “rules” about the Sabbath carefully and completely would act as a kind of magical protection from the suffering in the world. Because Jesus didn’t follow their rules about how to observe the Sabbath, he called into question their assumptions about God and the world. To keep their assurances intact they concluded that he must have been a sinner! Only if Jesus was a sinner could they keep their assumptions intact, assumptions that gave them false and shallow assurances that they would never have to deal with that kind of suffering. We still do that: we tell ourselves that if we follow all the rules, we’ll be spared from the worst hardships of life. And we reinforce that line of thinking by assuming those who suffer the worst must have “broken the rules,” and therefore they must be “sinners.” I would think that most of us have had enough experience with life to know that’s not the way life works. We can follow all the rules and still be hit with some of the worst kinds of suffering.

Again, in the Gospel story it was “the man who had formerly been blind” who exposed all these false assumptions. The religious leaders kept pressing him, trying to find a way to avoid the obvious conclusion that Jesus restored his sight. Finally, in exasperation they said, “Give glory to God! We know that this man is a sinner” (John 9:24). And an unlearned, marginalized, ragged, and dirty man, who just that morning had been living on the street, showed a depth of insight beyond all that they possessed. He said simply, “I do not know whether he is a sinner” (Jn 9:25). There’s probably a lot of wisdom in that when it comes to using the word “sinner” about someone else. But he said, “One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see” (Jn 9:25).

This man who had been blind was able to see the truth about Jesus. Those who claimed to see and know God’s truth were blinded by their false assumptions. That’s what the story is about. We see it in the end when Jesus makes an ironic and somewhat confusing statement about enabling those who are blind to see and making those who can see blind. The Message translation puts it this way, “I came into the world … , so that those who have never seen will see, and those who have made a great pretense of seeing will be exposed as blind” (John 9:39, MSG). I don’t think Jesus ever meant to keep anyone from seeing the truth about God, the truth about themselves, or the truth about life. I think what he was trying to do was to expose those who “make a great pretense of seeing” as people who can actually be blind. The story is about bringing to light something that happens all too often: those of us who think we see the truth about God and therefore view ourselves as “holier” than others are the ones who can at times be the most blind to God’s grace and mercy and compassion!

The hard truth about life is that we never know what we may have to go through. There are times when suffering just happens, not because of what we have done, but in spite of all we may have done. It’s natural in those times for us to look to our faith for comfort. But when we take that to an extreme and try to use our faith as an assurance that it won’t happen to us, we’ve missed something. Jesus made it clear that we’ve missed something when we use our “faith” to brand those who are suffering as “sinners” as a way of reassuring ourselves that we won’t have to suffer like them. What that really boils down to is an elaborate means of making ourselves feeling better at the expense of others. But Jesus framed the suffering people experience in this world entirely differently. He framed it as an opportunity for us to “look instead for what God can do” (John 9:3, MSG).

The Bible says that “nothing will be impossible for God.” We oftentimes think that some people may be beyond hope. And we tend to point the finger at them and assume that they must have done something to deserve it. It’s their fault somehow. But we really don’t know what life experiences have brought people to where they are. We really don’t know the burdens that people are carrying. I think that’s why Jesus taught his disciples and us to look at the suffering people experience not as a reason to point the finger and blame but as an opportunity to “look instead for what God can do.” Instead of shaming people, he challenged us to look for the good that God can do even and especially in the worst of human pain. After all, God raise Jesus from the dead after his suffering on the cross. If that’s true, what experience in this life is there that God can’t bring good from? And when look for what God can do when someone is suffering, not only does it change our whole perspective, but it also helps us to see that we have the opportunity to share God’s mercy and compassion with them. Maybe that’s what God “wants” to do. Maybe God wants to open our hearts to show kindness, compassion, and care, especially toward those whose suffering challenges us. I think Jesus challenges us to find the faith to look at the sufferings of this life and trust God enough to look for what God can do in any situation, come what may, and then try to join him in doing that.

[1] © Alan Brehm 2026. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 3/15/2026 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Windblown!

John 3:1-17[1]

We live in a place where the wind blows. It always has. Maybe in former days, before trees were planted more widely, it “blew” even more. Or at least it may have seemed like it. So much so that there are stories of early pioneers who were driven to madness by the constant blowing of the wind on the open prairie. These days, the wind can still be dangerous. Most of us remember the historic “derecho” storm that destroyed an almost 800-mile swath of crops in Iowa in 2020. More recently, and more locally, on a weekend when the weather was supposed to be calm, a storm brought down a lot of trees, some of them fairly large. We live in a place where the wind blows!

Like other aspects of the weather, we really can’t know the way the wind is going to blow on a given day until we see it. I learned that living on the Texas Gulf Coast, where we dealt with Hurricanes. The weather service had a five-day “cone of probability” for where the Hurricane would make landfall that was just about worthless because usually covered the whole Gulf Coast from Texas to Florida. Basically about 24 to 48 hours ahead of time we could get an idea of where the storm was going. That’s true here. Maybe the day before, we can see what seems to be happening. But really, we have to wait until the day to know what the weather is going to do. Is it going to snow this afternoon? We’ll have to wait and see.

Unfortunately, that unpredictability that exposes our trees and crops, not to mention our homes and gardens, to the risk of damage from a storm. That’s not something most of us relish. Unlike the people who originally settled here, we tend not to be great risk-takers. We want our lives to be safe and predictable. And we turn to our faith to provide us with that safe and predictable life. We want our faith to be something we can count on. So we take faith and turn it into a kind of certainty that I’m not sure it was ever meant to be.

At least that’s been the way some people approach faith. It’s “the Truth,” the one and only truth with a capital “T” that has been delivered “once for all” to the faithful (Cf. Jude 3!) and has been preserved intact throughout the centuries in an infallible Bible by an infallible church. Before we point the finger at other Christian traditions for this kind of thinking, we should look to our own roots. The Reformed confessions from the Sixteenth Century speak a similar language. It seems that the uncertainty and upheaval of the Protestant Reformation when people wanted certainty about their faith. They debated whether the Catholic tradition or the Protestant tradition had the “true” faith. They attacked each other back and forth about who had the true faith or who didn’t. One our Reformed confessions talks of faith as “a most certain apprehension of the truth of God.”[2] That doesn’t leave much room for doubt. And the Westminster Confession, which was the confession of faith of the Presbyterian Church for a long time, hardly even speaks the language of faith. It makes our faith all about knowledge and absolute truth and certainty.

It’s easy to understand why we look for this kind of certainty in our faith. It’s comforting and reassuring to have something firm and unchangeable to hang onto with all that’s changing in our world. But I’m not sure that our faith was meant to be like that. I would say that the Bible speaks very differently about faith. Yes, there are times when the prophets and apostles spoke of faith as something firm that provides us with a sense of being grounded. But they also speak of faith as something we can’t always pin down into nice, neat packages.

Our gospel lesson for today is a great example. Jesus speaks about faith in a way that was so confusing to Nicodemus, who was one of the “teachers of Israel,” that he completely misunderstood. Jesus said, “you must be born from above,” but the way he said it could also be understood, “you must be born again.” And Nicodemus thought Jesus was talking about somehow physically climbing back into the womb. But Jesus was talking about a different kind of birth. In John’s Gospel it’s called being “born from God,” or “born from above,” or “born of the Spirit.” It’s talking about a birth that brings us a whole new kind of life from the Spirit of God.

That’s something that may be hard for us to grasp, because this life can so often feel “old” and familiar rather than new and unexpected. But that’s the way Jesus described the “life” he came to give all people. And Jesus said this new life works the way the wind blows. He said, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes” (John 3:8). Now, Jesus wasn’t speaking about weather forecasting. Even with all the modern technology we have at our fingertips, sometimes a wind comes up suddenly, and you’re just as surprised and baffled as if you were living in the First Century. The new life that Jesus points us to, and the faith that opens the door to that new life, is just as much a mystery today as the wind still can be.

Because it is beyond our ability to understand, there is something inherently uncertain about what God is doing in our world to bring new life to us all. Like a sudden wind that takes us by surprise, the new life that God brings to us is something that can surprise us. Sometimes it can leave us feeling overwhelmed or even scared. When God’s Spirit blows into our lives, it’s not something we get to control. When we feel “out of control” we may find ourselves feeling vulnerable or even threatened. In those times, to be sure, our faith is like a lifeline that we hold onto. And there is much about our faith provides us with assurance, like the promise that God’s love for us never fails. But because our faith sometimes takes us to places we never expected to go, we may find ourselves in a situation where all we can do is fall on our knees and pray with all our hearts, “Lord, help me!”

If it’s true that God’s ways are as much higher than ours as “the heavens” are above the earth, then I think that means we will likely wonder, or question, or even doubt at times. I don’t think any of those responses to the unexpected nature of our lives is the opposite of faith. Rather, I would say that for me, those paths have led me to deeper faith! It’s natural for us to turn to our faith when life feels out of control. We all have favorite hymns, or Scripture verses, or prayers that give us the courage to face uncertain days. But we must not confuse assurance with absolute certainty. One of the main reasons for that is when our faith is something we view as absolutely certain, it becomes safe and predictable. And when our faith is safe and predictable, we can become complacent. I don’t think Jesus envisioned the new life he spoke about with Nicodemus on that night as something safe or predictable, or something about which we could ever become complacent!

Rather, our faith, and the new life it leads us to live, is always going to lead us out from the comfort of our safety and complacency. Jesus’ faith led him to the cross, and he said that it would be the same for all those who would follow him. If we’re going to take that risk of faith, if we’re going to let the wind of God’s Spirit blow new life into our lives, we’re going to have to expect that it’s not going to be safe and predictable. And rather than seeking safety or comfort, faith means opening up our hearts to the new life God brings by allowing ourselves to be changed. That’s how we experience faith, and that’s how we experience the new life Jesus promised to us all. It’s like being blown by the wind!

[1] © Alan Brehm 2026. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 3/1/2026 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] “Second Helvetic Confession,” The Book of Confessions 5.112.

Wednesday, January 14, 2026

The Light Keeps Shining

John 1:1-18[1]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, June 25, 2025

The Love That Makes Us One

John 17:1-5, 20-26

Perhaps forty years ago I had an experience that, in my mind, demonstrates the bond among those who share faith in Jesus Christ. At least ideally. I was in seminary and living in a suburb of Fort Worth. I had visited the local Baptist church, and the pastor came to pay me a visit one evening when a neighbor was there. As we all chatted, my neighbor remarked that it seemed like the pastor and I were old friends, when in reality we had just met. Of course, we had more in common than our faith in Jesus Christ. He had also attended the seminary in Fort Worth. And we were working in the same denomination. So from the outset we had a lot in common. But my neighbor’s remark that it seemed like we were old friends even though we had just met has always stayed with me. I’d like to think that any time Christians come together, it’s like a reunion of old friends.

Of course, that’s not always the case. There are so many different approaches to living out the Christian faith that we don’t always have that much in common. Some Christians are traditional, some are not. Some are conservative, some are middle of the road, and some are very liberal. And those differences can make it hard for us to feel connected in any meaningful way to people who share our faith in Jesus Christ. In fact, some churches don’t want to be united with those who do things differently, even though they share the same faith in Jesus Christ. And while most of us may not believe that “difference” means “heresy,” practically speaking we know that we simply tend to divide ourselves into groups based on our cultural, political, and social views. Even when it comes to individual congregations, it’s hard to find a church where everyone is on the same page.

This situation is not for lack of trying to promote unity (or even enforce it). Many churches use agreement regarding what they believe to achieve unity. In fact, they can be pretty heavy-handed in the way they impose that “agreement.” Some of you may have had the experience I’ve had going to certain denominations that ask you not to take communion unless you believe just like they do. Other churches seek unity through organizational uniformity, through a ladder of authority that works from the top down. Again, depending on those who are in positions of authority, the situation can be healthy or not. In our context, we seek unity through what is essentially a policy manual, the Book of Order. As much as I love being Presbyterian and believe in our tradition, I would have to say that all these well-intentioned efforts at promoting (or enforcing) unity have in reality been ventures in missing the point. They really haven’t succeeded at producing unity in the church at all.

I think part of the problem is that we’re looking in the wrong direction for unity. We think somehow that we can find it through our own efforts. But in our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus pointed us toward a very different source for our unity with one another. Jesus called his disciples to a unity that’s grounded in the unity of love between the Father and the Son. Jesus prays, “Father, just as you are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us” (Jn. 17:21). He says it in several different ways, but basically Jesus prayed for the disciples, and all those who would believe in the future, “that they may be one as we are one” (Jn. 17:22-23). Clearly, what creates a real and lasting unity in the church is the love that unites Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We know that by experience. Real connection comes from building relationships and developing mutual trust and respect. And for us to have any real unity, we first have to have a relationship in which we feel connected to one another.

I think that all may be fairly straightforward. I guess the question, though, is how we promote the love of God among people like us, who hold very different opinions about what we deem important in life. How do we promote the love that unites Father, Son, and Holy Spirit among people like us who get very attached to our opinions, and who can at times be stubborn about holding onto differing viewpoints? I think what it takes is a unity that’s deeper and stronger than anything we can create ourselves. What really makes the church one is the unity that God creates—the church is the one people of the one God. It’s the unity that Jesus Christ creates—the church is the one people of the one Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It’s the unity that the Spirit of God creates—the church is the one people of the one Holy Spirit. That’s the unity that makes the church—all people who put their trust in Jesus Christ—live.

I don’t believe this kind of unity is about the absence of difference. All we have to do to verify that is to look around the room! As I’ve said before, I believe that one of the signs of the health of any human community is the ability to disagree agreeably. The bond created among us by the presence of the love of God in Christ through the Spirit doesn’t eliminate our differences. What it means is that the differences don’t divide us, they make us stronger. And I think the way that happens is when we respond to our differences by practicing acceptance, humility, and patience. These are ties that bind us together and help us to thrive in the love we share with one another, the love that originates in God’s love for us.

A lot of people have been asking for a long while the question of how the church can thrive in these difficult times. I believe that living out the unity we share in God’s love is one of the most important ways we can work to enhance the health, the strength, and the vitality of this or any other church. In our day and time, the church is divided by race, divided by class, divided by politics, divided by beliefs. In a very real sense, we in the church reflect the divisions of our society at large. I don’t think that’s a good thing, but I also don’t think we have any power to change that, because we’re all human beings. But all these divisions contradict what Jesus said should be our defining trait: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (Jn. 13:35). Because we come from different perspectives and backgrounds, because we have differing opinions and viewpoints, the kind of love Jesus commanded us to show one another can be difficult at times, but I think we have to try.

Even in the best of times, loving others in the way that Jesus loves us takes all that we have to give. But in a world that seems increasingly lacking in love, it can be even more of a challenge. I would suggest that demonstrating the love that makes us one may be the most important way we can show the world that the church is a place to find new life. Perhaps the most meaningful way we can work to draw other people into the fellowship of this congregation is by working on the relationships we have with one another. When our relationships demonstrate a genuine concern and respect for one another, a heartfelt care, I think people cannot help but notice, and I think they’ll be drawn to join us. And they’ll be drawn by the love that makes us one.

Tuesday, June 24, 2025

Keeping God's Word

Keeping God’s Word

John 14:15-29[1]

One of the criticisms regularly leveled against the church by those who avoid it is that “the church is full of hypocrites.” That notion has been around for a long time, and we’ve developed a lot of ways to deflect that criticism. One of them is by responding that we know we’re sinners, but we’re here because we’re forgiven, not because we’re perfect. While I agree with that statement one hundred percent, I think it misses the point. It doesn’t really address the criticism that we in the church are “hypocrites.” That’s because we don’t typically take the time to find out what people mean when they level that criticism against the church.

I think when people call us “hypocrites,” they may be referring to the fact that they hear us say one thing but they see us doing something very different. We claim to follow Jesus, but we fail to practice the love that Jesus said would be the defining characteristic of those who follow him, as the Gospel lesson from last week reminds us (Jn 13:34-35). We say we believe the Bible to be the “Word of God,” but we fail to live out the fundamental principles of the Bible in our daily lives. Principles like “you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). Or, “See that justice is done—help those who are oppressed, give orphans their rights, and defend widows.” (Isa 1:16-17, GNT). Or, “The Lord God has told us what is right and what he demands: Seeing that justice is done, letting mercy be your first concern, and humbly obeying your God” (Mic. 6:8, CEV). Or, as Jesus put it, “In everything, do to others what you would want them to do to you” (Mt 7:12, NIRV). When people see us living in a way that contradicts those basic principles, I’m afraid our actions speak much louder than our words.

In our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus addresses this issue. He says quite bluntly that “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (Jn 14:15). That might sound strange to those of us who are used to the language of grace promising us salvation as a gift and freeing us from the bondage of living by rules. But in Jesus’ day, “keeping” the commandments was a perfectly normal way of expressing a life of faithfulness to God. “Keeping” God’s word meant internalizing God’s truths to the extent that they shaped every aspect of one’s daily life. It meant practicing God’s love and God’s mercy in every aspect of life. I think that’s what Jesus had in mind when he told his disciples that others would know that they follow him by how well they practiced the love he showed them.

I think we can get confused about how the gift of salvation relates to how well we keep God’s word. There seem to be two extremes. On the one hand, there are those who obsess about every little detail of Scripture in a compulsive effort to obey God perfectly, as if their very souls or their eternal destiny depended on getting it all just right. At the other extreme are those who think of biblical teachings as “suggestions” and instead adopt a way of life that looks more like “doing your own thing.” Of course, life is rarely “clear-cut” enough for us to know what the “right” thing to do is in an absolute sense. But that doesn’t mean we throw out the teachings of Scripture altogether.

I would say the true test of how well we keep God’s word is not how much we read it in worship, or how well we can quote it from memory. The true test is whether our actions back up our words. That only happens when we’ve internalized the central principles of Scripture enough, we’ve made them so much a part of who we are, we’ve taken them into our hearts and lives so deeply that we follow them as guides for living when it’s not always clear what the right thing to do is. In our ever-changing world, we are going to be placed more and more into situations where that’s the case. I think when we have truly embraced God’s love, God’s mercy, God’s kindness, God’s fairness, and God’s forgiveness as our basis for living, then those are the principles that will define our actions.

One of the challenges we face when it comes to “keeping God’s Word” is that many of us still think that Jesus somehow makes it “easier” for us. But in my mind that’s clearly not the case. If we just look at the way Jesus deals with some of the Ten Commandments in his Sermon on the Mount, we can see this. When it comes to the commandment, “You shall not kill,” Jesus said not only should you not kill anyone, you should also not give in to the hateful anger that devalues the life of others by the way you speak to them or about them! That one can be pretty hard to live up to! And we might also wonder about what it means to “keep” Jesus’ commandments. In case there’s any doubt, I would say there’s really no distinction at all between the essential commands of God in the Hebrew Bible and the teachings of Jesus. Throughout the Scriptures, the calling is to love God with everything we are and to love our neighbors as ourselves.

The fact that Jesus said that one of the distinguishing marks of those who follow him, of those who love him, is whether or not we “keep” his word doesn’t mean that our relationship with God is something we have to earn. One of the hallmarks of our Reformed tradition is that it teaches us we can never do that. Rather, it’s like a relationship where two people love each other and want the best for each other—not because of some external rule or code of conduct, but because of the love they have for each other. Jesus said that if we love him, we’ll follow his teachings, his way of life, his example—simply because the love we have for him compels us to do so. When we do that, then the people around us will see our actions line up with what we say we believe.

Mohandas Ghandi famously said that he would become a Christian if he ever met one. Of course, he had met many who professed to be Christians. But his point was that he never met anyone who actually put Jesus’ teachings into practice. He may have been a little hard on some folks, but that’s the challenge we all face. When our love for God and for Jesus Christ truly define who we are, from the inside out, then our lives will publicly display what it means to keep God’s word. We will do it just because that’s who we are, because our love for God and for Jesus compels us to live that way. Fortunately, learn in our Gospel lesson that it’s not a do-it-yourself project. Jesus promised the disciples that “the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything” (Jn. 14:26). And the idea is that the Spirit is the one who will help us live this way. With the Spirit’s help, with the guidance of Scripture, we can live a life of keeping God’s word, which means a life where our actions line up with what we say we believe.

Wednesday, May 21, 2025

Jesus Calls Us

John 21:1-17; Acts 9:1-20[1]

Last week we talked about how we are always in the process of “coming to faith” in the midst of new challenges and opportunities. And we do that by responding to those challenges and opportunities with a faith that is both true to life and true to who we are. But the question remains, what does it look like for us to authentically “come to faith”? In one of our Scripture lessons, we heard the story of Saul’s “conversion” on the road to Damascus. That experience has been held up by many in our day as the definitive model for what it means for us to truly come to faith in Jesus. We make a complete, 180-degree turn in our lives. We turn away, in a dramatic experience, from all that may lead us “astray” and determine to walk the “straight and narrow path.”

That traditional view of conversion has resulted in a lot of people getting “saved” who never really experience much of a change in the way they live. Once the “drama” in the dramatic conversion wears off, everything goes “back to normal.” I would say there’s something amiss when that happens. In our Scripture lessons for today we hear the stories of three people who, when Jesus called them, changed the way they were living their lives, and never went “back to normal.” In part, that change took place because their encounter with Jesus changed the way they viewed reality as a whole, and how they were going about their lives. But I would say the Bible is full of stories of people who changed the way they lived because of an encounter with God. And the point of those stories is that truly coming to faith changes the way you live.

In our Gospel lesson, Simon Peter and a number of the other “apostles” have gone fishing. It’s a little confusing, because this story comes after John’s Gospel has already told us about Jesus’ appearance to them, not once but twice. It would seem that this story, which had the ring of truth to it, never quite found a “home” in the tradition of preaching the good news that came to be written down in our Gospels. What is notable is that it “explains” how Simon Peter went from being a deserter to being a leader in the early church. After boasting that though all the others might desert Jesus, he would die before doing so (cf. Matt. 26:33/Mk. 14:29), Peter publicly denied even knowing Jesus. Not once, but three times. It shouldn’t surprise us that Peter went fishing. He likely thought his career as an “apostle” of Jesus was over.

But Jesus had different plans for Peter. Jesus revealed himself to Peter as the one who was risen from the dead and called them all back from fishing. Even Peter. After they shared a meal together, Jesus had an unusual conversation with Peter. He began by asking, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these others do?” (Jn. 21:15, NLT). I would say it’s likely that Jesus’ question alluded to Peter’s boast, which implied that he loved Jesus more than the other disciples, because he would die with Jesus even though the others deserted him. Peter, now a much humbler man after his bitter failure, simply answered, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” And in response, Jesus simply told him, “Feed my lambs.” Just a simple task, yet one that would take all the love, all the energy, and all the strength he had to give. And to leave no room for doubt about what Jesus had in mind for him, he asked Peter the same question three times, and each time he told Peter that if he loved him, Peter should show it by caring for the “flock.” Peter emerged from this encounter with Jesus a changed man.

In our lesson from the book of Acts, we learn how Saul the Pharisee encountered Jesus, alive and risen. Given our general impression of St. Paul the Apostle to the Gentiles, we might find the description of Saul the Pharisee a bit shocking: he was “breathing threats and murder” against the disciples of Jesus (Acts. 9:1)! It’s hard for us to imagine the same Apostle who wrote “Love is patient; love is kind” (1 Cor. 13:4) acting out such vicious hostility. But as he was on his way to carry out his violent intentions, he met Jesus. I find it interesting that, when Jesus confronts him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4), Saul replies, “Who are you, Lord?” Despite his former notions about Jesus, Saul recognized that he was dealing with the “Lord.” But nevertheless, I think he was stunned to hear the answer: “I am Jesus, the one you are persecuting!” (Acts 9:5 NLT). And as we know, that encounter with Jesus, alive and risen, changed his life. Saul the persecutor became Paul the preacher of the Gospel.

But he wasn’t the only one who was changed. We also hear how Ananias, one of the believers living in Damascus, was changed, and perhaps the whole community of believers as well. Ananias had heard about Saul’s violent persecution of believers. Like most of the Christians of that day, I’m quite sure Ananias feared Saul. And yet, we hear that Jesus appeared to Ananias in a “vision” and told him to “Go” and “ask for” Saul of Tarsus. It’s not surprising that Ananias objected! But Jesus insisted, “Go, for Saul is my chosen instrument” (Acts 9:15, NLT). And so Ananias went. But his encounter with Jesus had also changed him. Instead of approaching Saul with fear, he called him, “Brother Saul,” and he prayed for him. As a result, Saul was welcomed into the fellowship of believers. I would say that played no small role in the fact that Saul the former persecutor began preaching the Gospel so effectively that the believers had to smuggle him out of Damascus for his own safety.

Three stories of people who encountered Jesus, alive and risen from the dead. Three stories of people whose lives were forever changed by that encounter. Peter went from being a dejected failure to a leader of the church. “Simon, do you love me more than these others do?” “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” “Feed my lambs.” Saul went from being a violent persecutor to a humble and obedient servant of the Gospel. “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” “Who are you, Lord?” “I am Jesus, the one you are persecuting!” Ananias, and likely the whole community of believers, went from living in fear of persecution to witnessing first-hand what God could do with someone like Saul the Pharisee when they embraced him as a brother.

I would say that in each case, these people were following a course of action that was dictated by their assumptions about their lives, about their reality, and about other people. Peter went fishing, he wasn’t feeding any lambs. Saul wasn’t proclaiming the Gospel, he was trying to stop it. Ananias wasn’t about to go anywhere near Saul of Tarsus, let alone call him “brother” or pray for him. But those assumptions were preventing them from fulfilling the work of God’s kingdom. So Jesus, the one who was alive and risen from the dead, confronted each of them. And in response, their lives were never the same. It makes me wonder what assumptions we’re holding that may be preventing us from fulfilling the work of God’s kingdom in our day. Perhaps it’s time we submit them to Jesus, the one who is alive and risen from the dead, so that we might learn from him how our lives need to change. Coming to faith is always about responding to the call of Jesus in the midst of new challenges and opportunities in a way that is both true to life and true to who we are.

Wednesday, April 30, 2025

Coming to Faith

John 20:19-31[1]

Faith is not easy. It never has been. And it’s certainly not easy in this day and time. In a skeptical world that demands proof of just about everything, faith is something impossible to prove. How do you prove something so inward, so personal, and so mysterious? It can seem nearly impossible to get a firm grip on faith.[2] Living a life of faith can leave you feeling like you’re hanging in mid-air at the end of a rope, and you have no idea what that rope may be attached to![3] After all, how can we ever be certain about things like salvation, the afterlife, and eternal destiny? Those are matters of faith. The plain truth is that faith is not easy. It never has been!

Yet we live in a time when many of us want “easy” answers to all our questions. Especially our questions about faith. I’ve never found that helpful. For me, the questions I’ve had about faith have always been as real as my faith itself. In fact, I would say my questions have played just as significant a role in shaping my faith as anything else. But it’s not easy to face those questions. In fact, it can be positively frightening. It can leave you wondering whether there’s some “line” out there you may cross over in the process of asking your questions, and find yourself lost and alone, without a hope or a prayer left in the world! Whether we want it to be so or not, faith simply is not easy. It never has been!

I believe our Gospel lesson for today addresses this issue. It recounts the familiar story about “Doubting Thomas.” In our lesson, Thomas, one of Jesus’ hand-picked apostles, refused to believe that Jesus was alive after his death on the cross. Refused to believe! No matter what the others told him, he simply would not accept it. Unfortunately, this incident earned him the nickname “Doubting Thomas.” As a matter of fact, when Jesus addressed Thomas, saying, “Do not doubt, but believe” (Jn. 20:27), the word translated “doubt” should probably be rendered as “faithless.” Jesus told him, “Do not be faithless, but believe.” I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that Thomas found that having faith in the resurrection of Jesus wasn’t easy for him, at least at first!

But in fact, if you look at the way Thomas is depicted in John’s Gospel, he was by no means “faithless” in his relationship with Jesus. Quite the opposite. When it became clear that Jesus was determined to go to Jerusalem to die, it was Thomas who said to the others, “let us go, that we may die with him” (Jn. 11:16). That doesn’t sound much like Thomas was “faithless.” And it’s important to note that Thomas was absent the first time Jesus appeared to the apostles. While the others were hiding in fear behind locked doors, Thomas was out there somewhere. We don’t really know where he was or what he was doing, but he wasn’t hiding with the others!

I think it’s entirely appropriate for us to wonder why Thomas didn’t believe the report that Jesus was alive. I think it’s appropriate to wonder whether he may have had a good reason for that! I wonder whether it was his devotion to Jesus that made the pain of his death hard for Thomas to move past. I also wonder whether it was because he’d seen some of the others falter in their faith, especially Peter who had denied knowing Jesus, and he wasn’t prepared to rely on their word alone. What Thomas said was, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe” (Jn 20:25). Thomas, one of Jesus’ hand-picked apostles, refused to believe!

Whatever the reason for Thomas’ “doubts,” a week later Jesus appeared to them again. This time Thomas was there, and Jesus invited him to see for himself that what the others had said was indeed true. When Jesus appeared to them, he let Thomas see the wounds he still bore on his body. He invited Thomas to do just exactly what he said he would need to do to believe: he invited touch Jesus’ wounds. Jesus overcame Thomas’ apparent “faithlessness.” And in response, Thomas made one of the strongest confessions of faith contained in the Bible: he called Jesus “My Lord and my God!” (Jn. 20:28).

It’s a fair question to ask what it takes to convince people in this day and time to put their faith in the message we proclaim: that Jesus died and rose again to bring us all new life. I don’t pretend to be able to answer every question we might ask about how that was even possible. But I think that our questions can help us come to faith. Asking questions can help us make the faith that we have been taught by others into our own faith. Many of us here today know by experience that pursuing our questions can be the path to deeper faith. It’s not an easy journey to take, but coming to faith never has been easy.

I would have to say that the context in which you set out on this journey makes all the difference in where you wind up. Having the support and encouragement of a family and a faith community plays a crucial role. We have role models who have shown us how faith has made a difference in their lives. Our role models didn’t have answers to every question. But if you’re like me, those role models had a faith that was real. By living out their faith in the push and pull of life, they shaped my faith and encouraged me to continue the journey. Our families and our faith community give us all the support we need to continue coming to a faith that is real for us.

Faith is not easy. The truth is that it never has been easy. I would say faith boils down to a choice: choosing to look at life from the point of view that God’s love creates at least the “possibility of goodness” in this world.[4] In some respects, we only find faith by having faith. It’s very much like setting out on a journey without even knowing where you’re going, like Abraham and Sarah did. Today is the day when we celebrate a group of our students who are in a sense “setting out” on their faith journey. I would be shocked if they all didn’t still have questions. Maybe a lot of questions. Because this isn’t the end of the journey for them. It’s another step along the way. Just like them, “coming to faith” is something we’re all continually called to do. As we face challenges and opportunities that we could never have expected, if we are going to respond with a faith that is both true to life and true to who we are, we’ll need the courage to wrestle with our questions honestly. As we do that, as we continue the journey of faith, life will always challenge us to “come to faith” in new ways. Because faith is a journey, it’s not going to be easy. But it’s always worth it.

[2] Cf. John Caputo, On Religion, 15, where he speaks of faith as longing for “a reality beyond reality.”

[3] Cf. Karl Barth, Dogmatics 2.1:159, where he describes faith as feeling as if we are “suspended and hanging without ground under our feet.”

[4] Cf. Keith Ward, God: A Guide for the Perplexed, 209, where he defines faith as “committing ourselves to the continual possibility of goodness.”

Tuesday, April 02, 2024

Beyond All Hope

John 20:1-18[1]

In the face of all our recent discussion about suffering, it may seem like faith in Jesus’ resurrection from the dead on that first Easter morning might have little relevance for our lives right here and right now. In comparison with the darkness we may have had to endure in this life, something that happened so long ago and so far away might simply not seem to make a real difference for us. Beyond that, when you look at the massive suffering and violence that seem to dominate the world in which we live, it’s all too easy to conclude that money and power have the last word in our world. These harsh realities can make faith seem at best quaint and at worst a delusion. The fact of the matter is that we live in a world where it’s not easy to truly embrace the faith that Jesus’ death and resurrection brings new life to us all.

I’m not so sure the original witnesses to the resurrection had an easier time with faith. Our Gospel lesson for today presents several different responses to the resurrection on that first Easter Sunday morning. Mary Magdalene seems to react initially with fear when she sees that the stone has been moved from the tomb. So she runs back and tells the Apostles. In response, Peter and John run to the tomb. John the beloved disciple is the first one to reach it, but he hesitates to enter, perhaps out of the Jewish concern for becoming “unclean” by contacting a dead body. Later, when he does enter, the Scripture says that he “saw and believed.” When Peter gets there, he sees the empty tomb, and examines the wrappings that had been used to prepare Jesus’ body for burial, but it seems he doesn’t understand what to make of all this. The Gospel reminds us that “they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead” (John 20:9).

Three people, witnessing the same event, with three different responses: fear, confusion, and faith. I think the first two responses pretty well explain themselves. When confronted with the empty tomb, I think it would have been only natural for those who had witnessed Jesus’ terrible death only days earlier to react with fear or confusion. It’s John’s faith that seems hard to explain. What was it about what he saw that enabled him to believe? After all, he saw the same thing Mary and Peter did. It could be that John did remember and understand that Jesus had said he would have to suffer and die, but afterward he would rise from the dead. Or maybe John was just one of those people for whom faith comes easily. Maybe the difference was in the way he was able to see what they had all witnessed.

When Mary returns, she is still overwhelmed with grief and fear. By some accounting it may have been only about 36 hours since Jesus had died. She meets Jesus, but she doesn’t recognize him. She mistakes him for a gardener and actually asks him if he’s taken the body somewhere. It’s only when Jesus calls her by name that she recognizes him and believes. It takes his voice, his initiative to reveal himself to her, for her to get past her grief and fear so that she could see in such a way that she could recognize that Jesus was alive and standing right in front of her. Once she was able to get past her own feelings and see clearly that Jesus truly was alive, she returns to the Apostles again and tells them she’s seen Jesus.

When I think of this story, I wonder how the Apostles reacted when Mary first told them she had seen Jesus. Did some of them think she was crazy, or simply hallucinating out of her extreme grief? Were some of them confused? Again, the Scripture states, they didn’t yet understand that Jesus would rise from the dead. I think it’s a pretty good bet that some of them doubted—seriously doubted—that what she was telling them could be true. As some of the disciples unknowingly told Jesus later that evening, “we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel” (Luke 24:21). The implication is that now that he is dead, that hope is gone. In the same place they reported that some of the Apostles had gone to the tomb to “see for themselves,” but they didn’t see Jesus (Luke 24:24). It would seem that there was a wide variety of responses to Mary’s story, but it doesn’t sound like faith was the primary one at first.

The plain truth is that faith is difficult for some of us. There are all kinds of reasons for that. Some of us simply cannot get past bad experiences we’ve had in church. Some of us may have a more questioning bent of mind, and we’re more prone to doubt than to believe. Others may simply find faith to be mostly irrelevant to the reality of life. When our experience in life has been mostly tragedy, suffering, hardship, rejection, and pain, faith can seem like just so many pretty words. They may mean something to others, but they don’t have any real significance for life as we have experienced it.

More than that, the whole way of thinking with which many people approach life in this world these days can make it difficult to believe that something that was so out of the ordinary, the idea that a man who was tortured to death and was buried in a tomb somehow came back to life, could truly make any difference for us at all. We’re taught to believe that what we can see and touch is what is real. While faith has been around for millennia, from the perspective that only what we can observe is real, it’s easy to think of faith as “wishful thinking” or perhaps just plain superstition.[2] Almost like the equivalent of believing in vampires and ghosts. While vampires and ghosts may make for some interesting entertainment, almost nobody seriously believes in them. Why should it be any different with Jesus?

I think what makes the difference is encountering Jesus, alive and present with us here and now. That’s what made the difference for most of the disciples on the first Easter. You and I aren’t going to be seeing him like we can see one another right now, the way the first disciples met Jesus. I’m talking about an experience where we know in our hearts that we have been sustained by a love that is beyond what our senses can perceive.[3] When we have an encounter like that, it changes the way we see things, whether we’re prone to believe or more prone to doubt. It enables us to believe that God is not limited to the way things normally work in our world. An encounter with the living Christ in our lives can enable us to see that that God already working to make all things new in hidden ways (and in some not so hidden ways) here and now among us. It enables us to embrace the good news of Jesus’ resurrection as a promise that points toward a future filled with hope and joy and life. Death is not the ultimate reality for us; life in and through the risen Jesus is the final word. Meeting the risen Christ for ourselves makes it possible for us to see our lives from a perspective of faith that goes beyond all the hopes that our normal everyday experiences may offer us.

[2] Cf. Shirley C. Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 182: “when we experience tragic suffering in our own lives and see so much tragic suffering in the world, we wonder whether all talk about a loving and just God is not in fact ... wishful thinking.”

[3] Cf. John Caputo, On Religion, 91, where he lays out the options: believing that the world of faith is what is “really real,” believing that faith is “unreal” in comparison with the observable forces at work in the world, and a third way, in which faith is directed toward the reality that is beyond what our senses perceive as real. He also says that (ibid., 125) in the face of the “specter of a heartless world of cosmic forces,” “Faith is faith that there is something that lifts us above the blind force of things, .... That there is something ... or someone ... who stands by us when we are up against the worst, who stands by others, the least among us.”

Tuesday, March 19, 2024

Now is the Time

John 12:20-32[1]

Our faith makes some pretty big promises. Of course, the biggest promise is that if we trust in Jesus, we’ll go to heaven when we die and spend all eternity in the presence of his love. For some of us, that may have been what drew us to faith in the first place. But the problem with that promise is that we really have no way to test it in this life. We won’t “know” whether it’s true until we die. In the meantime, we do have reasons for confidence in that promise. The most important one is that Jesus defeated death on the cross and God raised him to new life on that first Easter Sunday. But then, that did happen a long time ago. So I can understand why some people may have doubts about it. We also have the experience of Jesus living “within our hearts” as the hymn puts it. But again, that’s not something easily demonstrated to someone with questions.

There are other promises that do relate to this life, however. One of them is a promise that we often use in our Assurance of Pardon: “if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” (2 Cor 5:17). I think the point is made a bit clearer in the New Living Translation: “anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” We might be tempted to think that this is just one particularly dramatic promise. But that’s not the case at all. It’s one of the themes of the Christian faith: those who trust Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior and who entrust their lives to him become whole new people. We heard it last week in our lesson from Ephesians: “because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ” (Eph 2:4-5, NIV). It’s the promise I like to use when we observe Ash Wednesday: just as God raised Jesus from the dead, so we too may live a new life (Rom 6:4).

Of course, the problem is that there’s a lot about our lives that doesn’t look or feel very “new.” We might very well agree with the objection quoted in 2 Peter: “From before the times of our ancestors, everything has remained the same since the world was first created” (2 Pet 3:4, NLT). Or even before that, we might agree that “there is nothing new under the sun,” as the “preacher” of Ecclesiastes put it (Eccl 1:9). I’m afraid that’s one of the changes that’s taken place in the last generation or two. People have lost the optimism that used to define our culture. At least for some of us. These days skepticism is much more widespread. I’m not talking about conspiracy theories. I’m talking about the fact that my children’s generation, and the generation after that, look at the world and they see the rich getting richer at their expense. They see people abusing power for their own benefit, regardless of whom they hurt. They see a world that doesn’t look like there’s much reason to believe in the promise that God is “making all things new” (Rev 21:5).

This point of view relates to our Gospel lesson for today. Jesus makes a pretty big promise in this passage. He says, “Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (Jn 12:31-32). It’s a pivotal point in John’s Gospel. The Jewish leaders have just made the decision that Jesus must die to keep them from losing their position and power. Up to this point, Jesus says his “hour has not yet come.” But now, the way events have unfolded convinces him that he has indeed come to his “hour.” But then just what that “hour” means takes a little more attention to John’s Gospel as a whole.

The theme of Jesus’ “hour” in John’s Gospel signifies that Jesus has a sense that his life and ministry are heading toward a conclusion. We saw something like that a few weeks ago in Mark’s Gospel when he told the disciples there that he “must” be handed over, rejected, killed and then raised from the dead. In John’s Gospel, the idea is similar, but a little different. We see a glimpse of that in our lesson when Jesus speaks of being “lifted up.” Of course, we would understand that to mean being “lifted up” on the cross to die. But the whole idea here is that the “hour” toward which Jesus is heading is the entire set of events that would lead to him “glorifying” God, and through which God would “glorify” him: his death on the cross, his resurrection from the dead, and his ascension to return to his place in God’s presence. That gives the idea of being “lifted up” a whole different meaning.

There is a sense in which John’s Gospel presents Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension to the Father as the crucial event by which God would change everything. Jesus says it this way in our lesson: “I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (Jn 12:32). The fact that Jesus will draw all people to himself also means depriving the so-called “the ruler of this world” from any and all power whatsoever. Just as the “light of life” that Jesus has brought means that the darkness has been dispelled once and for all, so also Jesus’ “lifting up” on the cross, in the resurrection, and at the ascension deprives the powers of evil of any further ability to control our lives.

Well, that’s a really big promise, isn’t it? And the truth of the matter is when we look at the way life goes in our world, we can see all too much evidence that the powers of evil are thriving as much as ever. How many people in this world are affected right now by war, hunger, poverty, addiction, or abuse? How many more are subject to injustice, violence, and oppression? When you look at the fact that those who align themselves with evil in this world seem to be gaining power, not losing it, it can make you wonder whether we can trust Jesus’ promise at all.

But I think it comes down to how we choose to look at things. We can choose to focus on the negative things in this world. We can choose to focus on the negative things in our lives. And when we do, it should come as no surprise that we see a lot of evidence that life in this world is getting worse, not better. Or we can choose to look at things differently. We can choose to look for glimpses of “the beginning of the fulfillment” of God’s promise to make everything new again.[2] We see it every time someone stands up in the midst of all that’s wrong with this world and demonstrates their hope by choosing to make a positive difference for others. We see it every time someone turns away from all that would keep them trapped in darkness and chooses to believe that God loves them and to live their lives in the light of that love.

We all constantly stand before that choice. Whether to focus on all that’s wrong and surrender our lives to the control of those who would harm us and others. Or to focus on the good things that show God is indeed already working among us to make all things new. Jesus’ “hour” came for him to “lifted up” in his death, resurrection, and ascension to reign at God’s right hand. Since that time, the time has come for us everyone in every generation. And so, for us now is the time to decide what we believe is truly real: the hatred, violence, corruption, and oppression in this world, or the new life that God has begun in all of us through Jesus. We can choose which one we believe, and now is the time to make that choice. Now is the time for deciding whether we will give up our lives for the sake of others. Now is the time to decide whether we will open our eyes to see the “beginning of the fulfillment” of God’s promise to make all things new among us and around us already here and now.

[1] © Alan Brehm 2024. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 3/17/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Henri J. M. Nouwen, Sabbatical Journey: A Diary of his Final Year, 166-167: “life is not empty waiting. It is to wait full of expectation. The knowledge that God will indeed fulfill the promise to renew everything … makes the waiting exciting. We can already see the beginning of the fulfillment. Nature speaks of it every spring; people [speak] of it whenever they smile; …and all of history speaks of it when amid all devastation and chaos, men and women arise who reveal the hope that lives within them … .”

The Waking Dreamer