Showing posts with label Gospel of Mark. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gospel of Mark. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 19, 2024

(Not) Just for Show

 (Not) Just for Show

Mark 12:38-44[1]

We like to think of ourselves as individuals who are capable of standing on our own two feet without any help from anyone else. But the truth of our lives, all our lives, is that we’re very much dependent on our place in a community. Without our families, without our jobs, without having a “place” in society, we are very much “adrift,” and even perhaps “invisible.” The history of migrants in this country demonstrates that. Whether they were Latino, or Chinese, or Irish, or Italian, there’ve always been individuals we deemed “less than” and a threat to “our way of life.” As a society, we did that to American citizens who were displaced by the Great Depression and the “Dust Bowl.” And we still do it to people who don’t “fit in,” for whatever reason.

We like to think we have good reasons for this kind of shallow judgment. We reinforce our prejudices against those who look or dress or talk differently from us with all kinds of “justifications.” They commit crimes. Or they carry diseases. Or they brought their plight on themselves. But what it boils down to is that we believe they’re a threat to our way of life, our safety, and our success. We believe that people who “aren’t like us” are to blame for their own misfortunes, while we consistently let ourselves and those in our circles off the hook for whatever difficulties may come our way. Our compassion is limited to those who are a part of our “circle.”

The real threat here, however, is not the “others,” however we define them. The real threat is the fact that, deep down, we all know that our way of life depends on being able to “keep up appearances.” We all harbor the secret fear that if people really knew who we are, down deep, it could cost us our place in the community. And along with our place in the community, we could lose everything. I think the fear of losing our place in this world, and with it our way of life, is what has always driven us to label certain “others” as a threat. But the real threat is from the fragility of our place in society.

Our Gospel lesson for today throws this issue into the spotlight in a way that might seem rather uncomfortable. Jesus was at the Temple in Jerusalem, watching the people making their contributions. The Temple in that day was a huge organization, the largest in Jewish society, supporting religious leaders that numbered in the tens of thousands. In that setting, Jesus saw “A poor widow” who “came and put in two small copper coins” (Mk 12:42). What she gave was next to nothing. It wasn’t enough to buy food for a single meal. It certainly wasn’t going to make or break the Temple treasury!

By comparison, Mark tells us that “Many rich people put in large sums” (Mk 12:41). We don’t know exactly what kind of container held the offerings, but apparently it was something that would have been very public. And since money in that day consisted of coins, it would have been obvious to all present that they had given a lot. But Jesus wasn’t impressed with their large gifts. He said it this way: they “have contributed out of their abundance” (Mk 12:44). They gave what was convenient to give. They gave what may have been “pocket change” to them. They gave what they wouldn’t miss. They made a show of being “religious,” but that’s all it was: it was just for show.

I think that what may be easy to miss was that this woman had obviously lost her place in society. She was a widow who was poor, which likely meant that she was alone in the world. She couldn’t afford nice clothes or a decent place to live. She couldn’t even afford to buy one meal! While she may have had some support from the Jewish system of charity, it was likely only “token” assistance. She was a non-person to all the prominent leaders who were at the Temple to “worship God,” essentially invisible. The contradiction between the show they were putting on and the true condition of their hearts couldn’t have been more obvious. But clearly, it was that very show that maintained their place in society, so the show went on.

In Mark’s Gospel, this episode is preceded by Jesus’ criticism of the Jewish religious leaders. He said they went to great lengths to look impressive with their beautiful robes and to be noticed for their “presence” in worship. But he knew that it was all for show (Mk.12:40). They wanted to make it look like they were spiritual. But the fact that their real agenda was about themselves was revealed by the indictment Jesus made. They were literally “devouring” the homes of widows like the woman who gave her last two coins. They were defrauding some of the most vulnerable people in their society. They were wrapped up in their own self-interest. Their lack of care for a poor widow who had lost her place in the community exposed their “show” of piety as a sham.

In contrast to the religious leaders and the prominent people in the community who were putting on a show simply to maintain their “place,” Jesus affirmed the faith of this woman, whom they chose not even to see. He said that while they “contributed out of their abundance,” she “put in everything she had, all she had to live on” (Mk. 12:44). What may not be obvious on the surface of things is that the Greek phrase translated “all she had to live on” could also be rendered “her whole life.” As hard as it may be to comprehend, it sounds like she gave the last two coins she had to her name!

I think it’s hard for most of us to grasp why she would do that. Perhaps it was because she had reached the end of her rope. She had had exhausted her resources, and she was offering herself entirely to God, trusting him to care for her needs. She had clearly lost her “place” in society. She was alone, she had no means of supporting herself, and it seems clear that the only one who even noticed her presence at the Temple on that day was Jesus. Everyone else was too busy keeping up appearances, keeping the “show” going that kept their “place” in society safe and secure.

But was there more to it than just an act of desperation? I’d like to think this was the final act of devotion in a lifetime of true devotion to God. Perhaps that’s why Jesus said her gift was more substantial than all the “large sums” the others gave. While they gave just for “show,” she gave from the heart. They were concerned with keeping their “place” in the community secure. But she was concerned with something much more important. She embodied the kind of attitude that Jesus was talking about last week: a commitment to loving God with all we are, all we have, and all we hope to be.

Those of us who are the “haves” in our society tend to believe that we “deserve” our place in the community, along with the safety and security that goes with it. And we still tend to assume that the “have nots” are in that place because they must have done something to deserve it. But the hard fact of life is that it’s not about “deserving.” Life happens to us all, “haves” and “have nots” alike, and life doesn’t care what we think we deserve. Our ultimate assurance is found in God, and in God alone. But if that really sinks in, and if we truly understand that God loves us more than we “deserve,” that God has given us far more than we “deserve,” then we have to respond to those who are without a place in our community with compassion. If we don’t, no amount of giving really amounts to anything. And everything else we do around here is nothing but a lot “noise” (1 Cor 13:1-3). It’s all just for show. What counts is caring for the people who have lost their place in this world and showing that our care is real by helping them. That’s what makes everything else we do in the name of Jesus real.



[1] © 2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 11/10/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, November 05, 2024

Stewards

Stewards

Mark 12:28-34[1]

“Stewardship” is not a word we use much these days. When we do, it usually has something to do with money. Boards of foundations exercise “stewardship” with the money entrusted to them. That means they’re expected to be wise managers of those funds, both in terms of fulfilling the purpose of the organization and in terms of making sound decisions to ensure that the foundation continues to operate. We also talk about “stewardship” with reference to natural resources. For example, we expect the National Park Service to care for those public lands so that future generations may enjoy their beauty. Of course, the other arena in which we use the word “stewardship” is in the church. And to most of us, “stewardship” equals the church asking its members to donate money to support its ministry.

I would say that the biblical view of the Christian life views “stewardship” in a much broader way than that. The starting place for all of it is the conviction that all that we are and all that we have come to us as gifts from God. From our very existence, to our gifts and abilities, to the opportunities we’ve had to make use of those skills, it all falls under the category of “gift from God.” There’s no part of our lives that we can say “I did this myself.” Even our most individual achievements, when viewed from the biblical perspective, are made possible because of all that God has given us. Whether it’s the ability to make music, or shape students’ lives, or build a thriving business, or discover a new cure, or work for the health and wellbeing of others, it’s all a gift from God.

Beyond that, since God not only created us, but also gave us new life through Jesus Christ, from the biblical perspective, we “belong” to God. As the statement of faith put it earlier, we “belong” to him in that God has claimed us all as his children with his unconditional and unfailing love. More than that, Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection mean that we “belong” to God in that we have a hope and a future that comes from him and from him alone. Our very ability to get up in the morning and face a new day with the enthusiasm that comes from knowing that how we live and what we do in this world makes a difference, both now and eternally, is ours because God has given us new life through his son Jesus Christ.

All of that is necessary to understand our Gospel lesson for today. In this section of Mark’s Gospel, the religious leaders have been carrying on a debate with Jesus, hoping to make a fool out of him in front of the crowds who followed him. One of them asked him which of God’s commands was the “first,” or most important. It’s no coincidence that Jesus chose love for God and love for neighbor in reply. The “first” commandment came from the Shema, which was and still is the heart of the Jewish faith (Deut 6:4-5): “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength” (Mk 12:29-30). And the “second” commandment (Lev 19:18), “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” is part of a summary of God’s intentions for the way he wanted his people to live their lives in the book of Leviticus.

These two “great” commands reflect a fundamental framework of faith that runs throughout the whole Bible. God created all that is, including us, out of his love. And God is in the process of restoring all that is, including us, through what Jesus Christ did for us in his death and resurrection. When we miss the fact that all that we are and all that we have come to us from God’s love, both in creation and in salvation, we can make the mistake of thinking that “stewardship” relates only to what we may do at church. But from the biblical perspective God’s love claims our whole lives.

So it is that we who are fortunate enough to live our whole lives knowing that God loves us unconditionally and irrevocably are called to love God in return with all that we are. That’s one way to summarize “love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.” God desires more than just our money or a token amount of our time. God’s love claims our whole lives, our very selves, everything we are and everything we have.

I think it’s natural to wonder what that’s supposed look like in real life. Are we all meant to go live in a monastery or a convent, devoting all our waking hours to worshiping and serving God? Are we all called to dedicate ourselves to serve as ministers or missionaries? I’ve been trying to learn what this means all my life, and I must confess, I’m not sure any of us really has the answer. We can’t even love another person with everything we are and everything we have. Not to the extent that the Bible calls us to love God. How are we expected to love God in that way, given the fact that we all fall short?

I think the best way we have to figure this out is to look to Jesus. Jesus loved God with all his life. And from that love for God flowed a way of living defined by the second “great” commandment: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus demonstrated his love for God by treating all people with dignity, respect, fairness, compassion, and kindness, which is the practical definition of “loving your neighbor” (Lev 19:9-18, 33-36). We show our love for God when we follow his example and commit all that we are and all that we have to serving God’s purpose in this world.

I know that all sounds incredibly impractical, if not downright impossible. Who can live their whole life in service to God. There are bills to pay, and children to raise, and parents to care for, and homes to maintain. And more than that, we all have activities we do for “fun” to “re-create” the energy we need to take care of our responsibilities. How can we possibly devote more than an hour here or there on a Sunday morning or a Wednesday evening to God?

I believe it’s a matter of perspective. We can view everything we do—working at our jobs, raising our families, and more—as a way of living out our commitment to love God with all that we are and all that we have. What God wants from us, and what God has always wanted from those who love him, is nothing less than all our lives. That’s what stewardship means in the Bible. It means to love God with all our lives. It’s not primarily about money, it’s about our hearts. It’s not primarily about how we spend our time, it’s about making the choice again and again to turn the gift of God’s love into love for other people. When that perspective on all of life is the starting point for all that we do, then what we give, whether money or time or service, will flow naturally and joyfully from a heart that’s overwhelmed with gratitude for the love we’ve received.



[1] © 2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 11/3/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, October 08, 2024

Stamped

Stamped

Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-10; Mark 10:13-16[1]

When it comes to parenting, the debate about nature versus nurture is an old one. The question is whether children are “stamped” with their personality from birth or whether their personality is shaped by the nurture they receive from their families. I think it’s always been a combination, myself. I think children have their own identities from the start, and that parents can either enhance or short-circuit that identity. Of course, at the end of the day, everyone makes their own choices, including our children, and those choices also have a way of defining our life path as well as who we are and who our family is.

One of the aspects of “nature” in this discussion has to be family resemblances. It’s not hard to see the likeness between my oldest son Derek and me. My daughter Carolyn likes to say that he’s a “clone” of me. I like to say, not that he’s a “mini-me,” but rather he’s a bigger and better “me.” He is 6’2”! You can see that family resemblance, not just is appearance, but also in mannerisms, in my son, myself, my father, my grandfather, even going back to my great-great-grandfather! About 15 years ago I stumbled upon a genealogy site run by a guy in Omaha who had some ties to the Brehm family. He had a picture of my great-great grandparents that I’d never seen. But when I took a good look at my great-great grandfather’s eyes, I saw my own, and my son’s as well.

We also take on the image of those who are influential in our lives. Those who are our mentors, whether family or teachers or supervisors, tend to influence how conduct ourselves. Sometimes those mentors can be more influential than our families. One of my professors in Seminary asked me to work with him as a graduate assistant, and I did that for three years. I graded his papers, and I taught his classes when he was away. It should come as no surprise to you that the way I taught my classes as a professor looked a lot like the way he taught his classes.

Our Scripture reading from Hebrews for today talks about a “resemblance” that’s even stronger than that. It talks about the way in which Jesus shows us what God is like. The Scripture describes Jesus as “the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature” (Heb 1:3, NLT). The language used in the Greek text calls to mind the idea that Jesus is a ray of light from the very being of God. He’s the “radiance of the glory of God.” It also suggests that, like a coin is stamped in the image of the one who issues it, Jesus is “stamped” in the image of God. He’s the “exact imprint of God’s nature.”

What the author of the letter to the Hebrews is talking about is Jesus’ nature as the “Son” of God. And we cannot help but think about the notion of the “incarnation” of Jesus when we hear this language. In these days there are some who think themselves too sophisticated to buy into antiquated concepts like God being incarnate in a human being. But the doctrine of incarnation is not about the biology of where children come from. It’s an affirmation that Jesus really and truly does show us what God is like.[2] We can look at Jesus, his life, his teaching, his mercy, his justice, and we can be confident that we’re seeing a true likeness of God. Or as the author of the letter to the Hebrews puts it, Jesus is “the exact imprint of God’s very being.”

What kind of “image” of God do we see in Jesus? In the Gospels we see him embracing the ones nobody else would embrace. We see him confronting the religious people with the falseness of their self-righteousness. We see him forgiving sinners and restoring people to themselves and to their communities. We see him teaching people to follow the commandments by loving God whole-heartedly and loving others sincerely. And in today’s Gospel lesson we see Jesus welcoming little children. 

Most of us are familiar with this story. We cherish it, but I think we also sterilize it a bit. Think about the children in your lives. They are energy personified. They have the capacity to laugh, cry, dance, and shout—all without any inhibitions whatsoever! As much as we love our children, however, we may have trouble fully seeing them as human beings. After all, what do children do? When they’re not sleeping or eating, they play. Many adults think that they’re too busy to waste precious time playing with children.

That’s why I think we sterilize this story. The typical “Sunday School” image is of calm, smiling, obedient children gathered around Jesus, admiring his presence, listening attentively and soaking in all that he has to say. But we know that most children aren’t like that. At least my grandchildren certainly aren’t! They’re fidgety, they’re impulsive; they can actually speak out of turn and interrupt what’s going on!  I think if we’re going to do justice to this Gospel lesson, we should imagine Jesus interacting with real group of children—active, exuberant, noisy! What do you do with a group of children like that? You don’t try to make them “be still” so you can teach them a lesson. You jump right into the middle of the fray and play with them! 

Does Jesus really show us what God is like by playing with children? Is something so seemingly mundane really an aspect of what it means that Jesus is “the exact imprint of God’s very being”?  Surely it must be incidental, simply a part of the narrative “coloring” that keeps us interested in the really “important” stuff. But in our lesson for today Jesus says that children define the character of what it means to be a part of God’s kingdom, God’s saving reign, God’s new creation. I think he most definitely showed us who God is when he played with those children!

The author of the letter to the Hebrews insists over and over that Jesus shows us what God is like. He’s like a ray of light from God’s very being. He’s “stamped” with God’s image like a coin is stamped with the image of the one who made it. But because we’re also made in the image of God, as our lesson from the Psalms for today reminds us, then there’s a sense in which Jesus also shows us what we’re created to be. We’re not only “stamped” with certain character traits, habits, and quirks that we inherited from our families or learned from our mentors. We’re also “stamped” with the image of God. And as we follow Jesus more and more faithfully, we are more and more transformed into his image (2 Cor 3:18). As we learn to practice the ways of God’s kingdom, the ways of faith, hope, and love, the ways of peace, justice, and freedom, we become “stamped” with Jesus’ image ourselves. And the more we become like him, the more we reflect the image of our loving God to those around us.



[1] © 2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 10/6/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Jürgen Moltmann, The Trinity and the Kingdom, 114-118, says that the incarnation is part of the “eternally self-communicating love of God” that constitutes the “foundation of the new creation,” or the “perfecting of creation.”

Wednesday, June 19, 2024

Perspective

 Perspective

Mark 4:26-34[1]

In our culture, we tend to think of our lives as our own to do with as we please. Perhaps this is especially true when we’re young. But when the responsibilities of a career and a family come along, we realize that there are many others who depend on us. Paraphrasing the poet John Donne, none of us is “an island” to ourselves. The point is that we’re all connected to each another, and what we do or don’t do can have effects that we may not even be able to imagine at this point. Both for good or for harm. I think that’s a perspective that we’ve lost in our current setting. My actions affect more than just my life, and so do yours. That’s a perspective that’s very different from the one that most people adopt these days.

I mentioned last week that our perspective on things can make a difference, more than we may know. We talked about adopting the perspective that regardless of the difficulties we may face, we can hold firmly to the confidence that God is working in and through us to accomplish his work in the world, even though we may not know what that is. It reminds me of a benediction that is widely known as the “Halverson Benediction.” Richard Halverson was the long-time pastor of Fourth Presbyterian Church in Bethesda, MD. He was also Chaplain of the United States Senate from 1981 until 1995. The benediction he is known for is one that he used in the Senate. There are several forms circulating these days, but the most common one is, “You go nowhere by accident. Wherever you go, God is sending you. Wherever you are, God has put you there. God has a purpose in your being there. Christ lives in you and has something he wants to do through you where you are. Believe this and go in the grace and love and power of Jesus Christ.”

It's a powerful benediction. I first encountered this benediction when I came into the Presbyterian world 20 years ago. The pastor of the church who helped shepherd me through the process of having my ordination recognized by the PCUSA used a portion of this benediction every Sunday in worship. I also encountered it at a Summer Youth program hosted each year by the Synod of the Sun at the University of Tulsa in Oklahoma. They used it to challenge the young people of the church to recognize that wherever they may go, whatever they may do, Christ has something he wants to do through them right where they are. Both in the church at large and with youth, I think the point was that we all have a calling. We don’t have to serve in a specific church-related position for Christ to use us to accomplish his work in the world. In fact, it is precisely through all of us that Christ seeks to accomplish his work!

I think we see this idea reflected in our Gospel lesson for today. Both parables Jesus used compare God’s “kingdom,” or what God is doing in the world, with the way seeds grow. And in both parables we see something of the rather “understated” and “unexpected” nature of what God is doing. In the first parable, the kingdom of God is compared to someone who “would scatter seed on the ground” (Mk 4:26). I think it’s hard not to notice the lack of effort on the part of this Sower of seeds. All he does is “scatter the seeds” on the ground. There’s no mention of cultivating or tending the seed. Rather the seed “sprouts and grows” but the farmer “does not know how” (Mk 4:27). The idea is that the seed produces fruit on its own, in some respects unseen even by those who plant it: “first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head” (Mk. 4:28).

The next parable is about a mustard seed. The point of this parable is somewhat obvious: the contrast between the beginning and the end. Jesus says that the mustard seed is “the smallest of all the seeds on earth” (Mk. 4:31), but when it grows up “it becomes the greatest of all shrubs” (Mk 4:32). He’s making the point that the mustard seed is tiny in comparison with the plant that grows from it. In the same way, the beginnings of God’s kingdom may have seemed unimpressive in Jesus’ day. In fact the work of God’s kingdom may seem to be unimpressive in our time. But Jesus assures us that the result will be equally surprising in all that it accomplishes in this world.

I think we’re meant to see a couple of important ideas in these parables. First, the kingdom of God does its own work. When Jesus proclaimed “the good news” that “the Kingdom of God has come near” (Mk 1:14-15), he was “scattering” the seed, the message of the gospel. That message is like a seed that bears fruit “on its own” in the hearts and lives of those who receive it. And this happens oftentimes without our even being aware of it. Second, the work that God is doing in this world is surprisingly unimpressive. That was true in Jesus’ day, so much so that it was easy for many of his contemporaries to miss it. What may seem surprising to us is that the work that God is doing in this world today can still seem rather insignificant. The “hiddenness” of God’s work in and through us makes it easy for us to forget that Jesus said this is precisely the way God carries out his work in the world.

That brings us back to the “Haverson Benediction.” There are some parts that I’m not so sure about. I understand that he believed wherever we go, God has sent us there. My experience of life hasn’t always confirmed that. There are things that happen to us in this life that I don’t believe reflect God’s will or God’s purpose. They certainly aren’t consistent with God’s character! Sometimes we find ourselves in places we never thought we would ever be. Whether or not God has “put” us there is an open question in my mind. I’m not so sure about that part of the benediction.

But I have no doubt that wherever we are, God wants to accomplish his purpose in and through us right where we are. And that purpose is to extend his grace, mercy, and love to all people. I also believe wholeheartedly that Christ lives in us, and that he “has something he wants to do” through each and every one of us, wherever we may be. Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ doesn’t just do his work through people who hold particular offices in the church, although those roles are important. He carries out his work in this world each and every day through each and every one of us. So the question isn’t whether Christ has anything he wants us to do. The question is what Christ may be intending to do in and through us, right where we are. I think that puts all of our lives, everything we do, everywhere we go, in a whole different perspective!



[1] ©2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 6/16/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, February 27, 2024

Laying it All Down

Lay It All Down

Mark 8:34-35[1]

We all have burdens we carry through our lives. All of us have obligations that we have to meet, responsibilities to attend to, tasks that we need to look after. That’s just a normal part of life. But many of us have other burdens we carry as well. We may carry the burden of expectations that were placed on us at a young age. Those expectations may have taken the form of a “script” or a “plan” for our lives that our loved ones hoped, or perhaps even demanded, that we fulfill. They may have seen us as the ones to carry on the family legacy, and they may have had very specific ideas about what that should look like. We may carry other burdens, like the shame or guilt for mistakes we’ve made for which we just can’t seem to forgive ourselves. We may carry the burden of thinking “if they really knew me, they wouldn’t accept me.” I think that one is more common than we may know.

We have other burdens that we carry as well. We enter our lives with our own hopes and dreams about the path life will take and what life will or will not bring our way. Those of us who have been around the block more than a few times know that life has a way of frustrating our “plans.” Rather than a straight line from beginning to end, the course of our lives usually includes all kinds of detours, missed turns, wrong turns, backtracking, and just plain getting stuck. That can be a problem for us if we’re desperately clinging to our plans. More than that, when life takes us down roads we never dreamed of, or perhaps we could only imagine in our worst nightmares, if we cling to our plans as if that’s the way our lives “have” to unfold, we will likely find ourselves discouraged and perhaps even embittered. When we close ourselves to the possibility that good things may come from paths we didn’t expect, our hopes and dreams can become shackles that bind us.

This may seem like a strange way to introduce our Gospel lesson for today. After all, in our lesson today Jesus not only announces that his path of obedience to God would lead him to die on a cross. He also tells all who would follow him that they must “deny themselves and take up their cross” (Mk 8:34). Just as we discussed with Jesus’ call to repentance last week, I’m not sure we even understand what Jesus is asking of us when he calls us to follow him. In our culture, “being a Christian” can simply be part of our identity as Americans. Some of us view faith as a means of getting all that we want out of our lives: comfort, happiness, status, and security. In a setting where people “select” churches like they are picking out a new car, and where they selectively participate only to get what they want out of it, I seriously doubt that we can even hear what Jesus is saying when he calls us to “deny ourselves and take up our cross.”

Our problem starts with “denying ourselves.” That call goes completely against the dominant message of our culture. In our consumer-driven culture, we’re told we “deserve” the best, and that we “owe it to ourselves” to make sure we get it. That’s pretty much the basic message behind the whole advertising industry, from Superbowl ads to local business appeals on the evening news. The basic premise is that “you’re worth it,” so you “deserve” to “treat yourself” with everything you want. And we’ve made it easy for you to get it—no payments until 2030! So when Jesus calls us to “deny ourselves,” it just doesn’t compute. As a child of this culture, I must confess I’ve wrestled with how to communicate what this means to us. The best answer I can come up with is that Jesus calls us to let go of our own aspirations, our own hopes and dreams for our lives, or even the very notion that life is “supposed” to bring us all that we could want or ask for. More than that, I think Jesus is calling us to lay down our preoccupation with our own welfare, to let go of the basic orientation that makes ourselves the focus of our lives.

Now, I’m aware that this is difficult for us to even hear, let alone comprehend or actually embrace as a way of living. It just seems wrong not to make “self” the center of our lives. But I wonder if in fact Jesus may be onto something that eludes us. I wonder if perhaps our very preoccupation with “self” isn’t one of those things we cling to that become shackles that burden us. Think about it; we like to hear Jesus calling us to “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Mt 11:28-30). That invitation sounds a lot more appealing than the one in our lesson from the Gospel of Mark for today to “deny yourself and take up your cross.”

But I wonder whether they may be more alike than we think. Jesus goes on to say in our lesson for today that “those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it” (Mk 8:35). I’m not sure Jesus would say it this way, but in our day and time I think “losing your life” can mean laying down the burdens we carry when we box ourselves into the trap of making “me, myself, and mine” the center of our universe. When we get trapped in the prison of our own interests, our own wants, or what “I” deserve, it becomes a place that robs us of the very life we’re clinging to so desperately. I think what Jesus was trying to say is that in fact the only way “save your life,” the only way to truly live, is to give yourself away for the sake of others. I think he may be calling us to lay down all the things we cling to so tightly in that small place of “I” and open ourselves to the people around us in compassion, understanding, and love. Of course, there is a balance to be struck here between a healthy sense of self and giving ourselves away for others. We can go too far in both directions.

Giving ourselves away for the sake of others brings us to the part about “taking up your cross.” Again, I’m not sure we can hear how shocking that must have been to Jesus’ disciples at that time. They had seen many of their people brutally executed on crosses. In their ears, “take up your cross” must have been even more difficult for them to hear than “denying yourself” is for us. It might have been like calling us to “take up your hangman’s noose.” But he was pointing them to his own example. He had just told them that his path of obedience to God was going to lead him to his death. And he proceeded to call them to follow him on that path. And, in fact, there have been many who have followed Jesus to the point of giving up their lives.

Most of us don’t live in a situation where we literally have to give up our lives to follow Jesus. But I think we can still learn something about what it means to “take up our cross.” On the cross, Jesus set the prime example of what it means to love others enough to lay down your life for them (cf. Jn 15:13). It’s not likely we’ll be called on to do that by literally dying. But laying down our own interests, our own wants, our own hopes and dreams for the sake of others is a path that we can all take. Just as with repentance, “denying yourself and taking up your cross” is not easy. I don’t think it’s a way of living that comes easily to any of us. In fact, I would say that it will take us a lifetime to learn what it means to truly lay down your “life” and give yourself away for the sake of others. And even then we won’t have it all down.

As we continue observing the season of Lent, I hope we realize that the kind of sacrifice Jesus calls us to make for the sake of our faith has nothing to do giving up meat or chocolate for 6 weeks. If we would follow Jesus on the path to the cross during this time, he’s going to call us to go far beyond that. He’s going to call us to lay down our very lives for the sake of others. But the “good news” in this seemingly demanding call is that it is precisely as we “lay down” our lives that we truly find life. As we let go all our expectations and plans, as we let go all our hopes and dreams, we may discover that they were the very things keeping us from the life we were looking for. As we lay it all down and follow Jesus on the path of giving ourselves away for the sake of others, we truly “find” our lives.



[1] ©2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 2/25/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Wednesday, February 21, 2024

(Re)Turning

 (Re)Turning

Psalm 25; Mark 1:15[1]

The language of “sin” and “repentance” doesn’t get much traction in our world these days. For quite some time now, we’ve been much more concerned about enhancing self-esteem than confessing that we’ve done wrong. Even, and especially among those of us in the church, there are many who bristle at the notion of gathering every Sunday and praying a prayer of confession together. There are those who not only reject the language of sin, they also object to any kind of admission that they are fallen, or broken, or less than whole just as they are. It would be nice if that were true, but if we’re honest with ourselves and with each other, we have to admit that we all fall short. And we do it far more often than we’d probably like to admit even to ourselves. Confessing our sins together week after week may not be the most comfortable part of our worship, but it is necessary.

To some extent, I understand what motivates those who object to the language of sin. Over the centuries, church leaders have used that language like a club to beat people over the head. They’ve used guilt to manipulate and control people. Especially in traditions a particular leader is the only one “authorized” to “dispense” forgiveness. And I understand the importance of maintaining a healthy sense of self-esteem. The fact that we have sinned makes us human, not worthless or shameful. Unfortunately, the language of our worship has at times created that impression. Even some of our beloved hymns have lyrics that can undermine a healthy sense of self-worth when taken to extreme. Phrases like “a wretch like me,” or “such a worm as I” don’t exactly resonate with a healthy self image. Even acknowledging our unworthiness can communicate to some people that they are “worthless.”

I would insist that we don’t have to abandon our sense of self-worth altogether to recognize and admit that we all fall short. In fact, I would suggest that part of a truly healthy sense of self-worth includes admitting that we all have room for improvement. Our lives are a journey, and in part that means we never stop growing. But in order to grow, we have to be willing to admit that there are areas of our lives that we could change. Again, the fact that we all fall short, that we all have room for improvement, that there are areas in our lives where we could change and grow, means that we are human, not shameful or worthless. It also means we acknowledge that, for all our efforts at following Jesus, none of us follows him perfectly. And we never will until we’re standing face-to-face with him and his love has made us completely whole.

In our Gospel lesson for today, Mark tells us that Jesus’ message was “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news” (Mk. 1:15). Or as the version we read today puts it, “Now is the time! Here comes God’s kingdom! Change your hearts and lives, and trust this good news!” I think we’re familiar with the “good news” of the “kingdom of God.” I’m not so sure that the language of repentance connects with us these days. It’s just not a word that we use in everyday life outside the church. I would imagine there are many in our day who might not even know what “repentance” means. One of the ways for understanding passages that have language that is unfamiliar or difficult I recommend to people studying the Bible is to compare different translations. I personally use the Bible Gateway website, because it makes it easy to compare many English translations at once.

When you compare translations of this verse, you find an interesting interchange in a couple of the translations we use on a regular basis. One is the Good News Translation, or “Today’s English Version,” first published in 1966. It translates the word “repent” in our Gospel lesson as “Turn away from your sins.” The other is the Contemporary English Version, first published in 1991. It translates the word “repent” as “Turn back to God.” What makes that interesting to me is that both of them were published by the American Bible Society. While the second translation wasn’t meant to be a “revision” of the first, there is a sense in which the Contemporary English Version was meant to be the successor to the original “Today’s English Version” or the Good News Bible. I think that makes it even more interesting that one translates “repent” as “Turn away from your sins,” while the other translates it as “Turn back to God.”

I point this out because I would say that based on my study of the Bible, I think they’re both right. Calls to “repent” in the Bible are meant to call people to turn away from their sins. At the same time, they are meant to call people to turn back to God. “Repentance” includes both movements: turning away from that which is harmful to us and to others, and returning to God, who is the sole source of life that is full and free. But that can be hard for us to do. We have to acknowledge that something we’ve done is “sin” in order to “turn away” from it. And we have to acknowledge that in choosing to sin we have turned away from God in order to return to him. It can be humbling to make either of those confessions, even to ourselves.

Again, I would say that humility can be a part of a truly healthy sense of self-worth, as long as it doesn’t turn into shame. I think that’s part of what our lesson from the Psalms is about. It’s a prayer of humility, recognizing that we all need help in order to truly follow God’s ways in our daily living. And that’s what the Psalm promises: God’s help. Our lesson says it this way, “The LORD is good and does what is right; he shows the proper path to those who go astray. He leads the humble in doing right, teaching them his way” (Ps 25:8-9, NLT). Notice, it doesn’t say that God shows the proper way to those who are already in the right, but rather to those who go astray! As a person who is fallen and flawed and who “goes astray” more often that I’d like to admit, I find that to be a great comfort! The promise of Scripture is that God shows us all the “proper way” and leads us in what is right.

The language of sin and repentance in the Bible isn’t meant to shame us or to beat us down with the notion that we’re worthless. It’s meant to inspire us to “change our hearts and lives.” That’s the way the Common English Bible, the version we used for our Gospel lesson today, puts it: “Change your hearts and lives.” This is no easy task. Sometimes we have to “hit bottom” before we’re even willing to admit that we need to change. Making changes in our lives means recognizing that we fall short. It means taking responsibility for what we have done as well as what we’ve failed to do. It means, as the Psalmist says, admitting that we need help to follow God’s ways in our daily living. It reminds me of what Jesus said in the Beatitudes: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God” (Matt. 5:3). I like the way the Message translation puts it: “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.” Being willing to confess our sins and repent, both in the sense of turning away from what harms us and others, and in the sense of returning to God, isn’t about thinking of ourselves as worthless or shameful. It’s simply about being humble enough to recognize that we need God’s help. And the promise of Scripture, is that to those who are humble enough to acknowledge we need help, God provides it time after time after time.



[1] ©2024 Alan Brehm.  A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 2/18/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, February 06, 2024

Have You Not Heard?

 Have You Not Heard?

Isaiah 40:18-31; Mark 1:29-39[1]

Everybody wrestles with faith at some time or other. That’s because, as much as we like to present our lives as “picture perfect,” nobody actually has an “ideal” life. Pretty much everyone is dealing with some kind of problem. It just seems to be the nature of life. Just as soon as you get one thing nailed down, two more come loose. And it’s also the nature of the Christian life. As one of my college professors put it, everyone you meet is either heading into a time when their faith will be tested, or is in the midst of a time of testing, or is coming out of a time of testing. When we go through hard times, it’s easy for us to wonder what went wrong. We think a life that’s free of troubles should be “normal” for a Christian. But the fact of the matter is that we follow a Savior and Lord who suffered, and who called us to follow him in that path. So we should expect the troubles in our life as “normal.”

Part of the problem is that when hard times come, we tend to think that God is punishing us. It’s actually a line of thinking that starts with the Bible. Especially the book of Deuteronomy. The idea there is that when we do what we’re supposed to do, God blesses us. When we do what we’re not supposed to do, God punishes us. But the problem with that line of thinking is that there are a lot of people out there whose lives seem to be “blessed” who aren’t making any effort to do what’s right. And there are also a lot of people out there who are making every effort to do what’s right whose lives nevertheless are filled with hardship. In the language of the Psalms, the fact that the “wicked” so often “prosper” while the “righteous” suffer makes it plain that the line of thinking that equates hardships with punishment just doesn’t work.

Sometimes we may take this all the way to questioning whether God really is as good and loving as we’ve been taught to believe. In fact, this is a question that people have been asking for centuries, going back to ancient times. One of the Psalmists asks God if he has forgotten to be loving (Ps. 77:8-9), essentially asking if God has forgotten who he is! Another Psalmist asks God if he has fallen asleep instead of coming to help his people in their time of need (Ps. 44:23), again asking if God has somehow gotten too tired to make good on his promises. Those are some pretty bold questions. Not everyone goes through tragedies painful enough to bring us to question God to that extent. But there are many of us who have and still do, and I think it’s important for us to recognize that if psalm-singers and prophets could ask these questions in the Bible, it’s okay for us to have and to give voice to our questions. If Jesus could cry out to God “why have you forsaken me” from the cross, we can ask our questions too. God’s big enough to handle it, and he understands.

From the point of view of some Philosophers and Theologians, the presence of so much unjust suffering, or “evil,” in the world means that God cannot be both loving and all-powerful at the same time. If God is loving, he must not be all-powerful, because a loving God “would” prevent the tragedies that come upon the most innocent and vulnerable people. From this point of view, God is like a beloved grandparent who is simply powerless to protect us.[2] On the other hand, if God is all-powerful, he must not be loving, because being all-powerful means God can stop the terrible things that happen in life but chooses not to. From this point of view, God isn’t even a good father, because no parent would neglect a child in need![3]

As much as I understand why some people ask these questions (and why I’ve asked them myself!), the problem with posing the alternatives so starkly is that it presupposes that God’s ways are our ways. But the Bible bears witness again and again that God’s ways are as much higher than our ways as the heavens are higher than the earth (Isa 55:9). We know a lot more about how “high” the heavens are in our day than they did then. Generally speaking, science tells us that the universe is infinite! And so our lesson from Psalm 147 today says, “there is no limit to [God’s] understanding” (Ps 147:5, NIrV). That’s one way of dealing with the painful experiences of our lives: we may not understand what’s happening, but none of it escapes God’s notice, nor his wisdom, power, and love!

That’s the point of our lesson from Isaiah for today. The people of Israel languished far from home for a lifetime. In that land so far from everything they had known, they  wondered whether God even noticed that they were suffering, or whether God even cared. And the prophet speaking in the name of the Lord reminds them who God is: “The LORD is the everlasting God; he created all the world. He never grows tired or weary” (Isa 40:28, GNT). God always knows what we’re going through in this life, and God always cares. That doesn’t mean things will always turn out the way we want or hope. But what it means is that “those who trust in the LORD for help will find their strength renewed. They will rise on wings like eagles; they will run and not get weary; they will walk and not grow weak” (Isa 40:31, GNT).

It’s something our lesson from the Gospel of Mark for today demonstrates. Although Jesus knew his task was not primarily to work miracles, but to proclaim the good news that he had come to bring the kingdom of God, wherever he was faced with suffering he met human pain with compassion. He was never too preoccupied with his sense of calling to comfort those who were suffering. And when he followed that calling all the way to the point of giving up his life on the cross, he showed us all once and for all that God shares our burdens. Although Jesus cried out in agony, and it seemed as if the only reply God made was silence, what our faith teaches us is that in Jesus God was right there, taking all of our suffering upon himself.[4] Just as Jesus didn’t abandon those who came to him in need, so also God didn’t abandon Jesus on the cross. And God will never abandon anyone in this world, especially in the midst of their suffering.

When I’m going through hard times, and I’m having a hard time believing that God notices or cares about what I’m going through, I know that it’s usually because I’m stuck in fear or pain or sadness. I think when we get stuck in those feelings, we lose our sense of perspective on our lives. We may even lose our faith for a time. That’s precisely when we need to remember the lessons those who wrestled with these questions in the Bible learned. While my understanding is most definitely limited, there is no limit to God’s understanding. We may not understand what’s going on, but none of what’s happening in our lives escapes God’s notice, nor his wisdom, power, and love. Just as Jesus never abandoned those who came to him in need, and just as God didn’t abandon Jesus on the cross, so God never abandons us, especially in hard times. God is always there for us; when we think God is silent, perhaps it’s because God is weeping right along with us. As our affirmation of faith reminds us today, God watches over us each day of our lives. It’s what we’ve heard from the very beginning. God always knows what we’re going through in this life, and God always cares.



[1] © 2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 2/4/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] This was the view of Rabbi Harold Kushner in When Bad Things Happen to Good People. His views were likely influenced by the death of his son from cancer at an early age.

[3] This is the view of Sam Harris: “God visits suffering on innocent people on a scope and scale that would embarrass the most ambitious psychopath” (post on Twitter dated Aug. 5, 2015).

[4] Cf. Helmut Thielicke, The Silence of God, 14: “Even when He was silent, God suffered with us.” Cf. also ibid., 13: When we don’t understand what’s happening, perhaps God “is fitting stone to stone in His plan for the world and our lives, even though we can see only a confused and meaningless jumble of stones.”

Tuesday, January 23, 2024

Compelling

 Compelling

Mark 1:14-20[1]

There are some people we encounter who are unique. They have a quality about them that draws us to them. It may be their ability to make us feel at ease. Or it may be the fact that they seem to be able to make friends with anyone. Or it may be their gift of making conversation with just about anyone on just about any topic. I could go on and on. We’re drawn to people like this for reasons as varied as their individual personalities. There was a time when we called this quality “charisma.” That’s a good word for it, but it doesn’t make it any easier to define. Suffice it to say that these people tend to be the ones toward whom we are naturally drawn, and they wind up being the center of attention, or the “life of the party,” wherever they go. They also tend to be the ones who wind up in leadership positions simply because they have a gift for it, whether they’re aware of it or not.

As we’re looking at the witness of Mark’s Gospel to Jesus as the “Son of God,” I think there was a compelling quality about him that drew others. He had this same quality that we find so hard to put into words today. In Mark’s Gospel, it’s called “authority.” I don’t think that was referring to any formal authority, but rather the fact that his words, his actions, his very person had the power to influence the people around him. In fact, the word in the original Greek text can also be translated “power.” Again, I don’t believe that was referring to any kind of force that Jesus wielded like a club. Rather, his words, his actions, his very person had the power to influence the people around him. People were drawn to him. They responded to him. Although he rarely sought the center of attention, he often wound up there, at times surrounded by a crowd of thousands. They came to him because he had a compelling quality that drew them to him.

I think we see this reflected in our Gospel lesson for today. It’s the story of Jesus meeting four fishermen and inviting them to follow him. We know the outcome because we’ve heard it before so many times: they left their boats and their nets and their families and they followed Jesus. But if we think about this episode as if we were hearing it for the first time, I would say it’s reasonable to ask why they made such a radical change in their lives just because he asked them to. The Revised Common Lectionary organizes our Gospel readings this year in a way that’s intended to make us think this wasn’t their first encounter with Jesus. Last week we heard about John the Baptist pointing out Jesus to Andrew and Simon Peter in John’s Gospel. But Mark’s Gospel doesn’t tell us that story. In Mark’s Gospel, they “immediately” leave everything behind to follow him, and we’re left to simply wonder why they would do that.

They aren’t the only ones who responded to Jesus in that way. To be sure, not everyone who met Jesus was drawn to him. There were many who saw him as a threat and a danger. But there were many others who were drawn to Jesus just as the four fisherman in our lesson for today. Mark tells us that on one evening in Capernaum the people brought all who were suffering to him so that “the whole city” was gathered (Mk. 1:33)! Historians estimate the population of Capernaum at that time to have been around 1500 people. Mark also tells about a time when he was teaching beside the sea of Galilee, and such a large crowd had gathered that Jesus had to get in a boat and push out from shore to be able to address them all. At one point, when Jesus and his disciples were trying to get some time away from the crowds, Mark tells us that over 5000 people met him when he came ashore, and after teaching them he fed the whole group with five loaves and two fish.

Again, I think it’s a fair question to ask what drew all these people to Jesus. One part of the answer is that his “fame” was spreading throughout Galilee (Mk 1:28). But I don’t think that was all there was to it. People don’t stay in a deserted place without food and shelter just because they’ve heard about someone famous and they want to get a glimpse for themselves. His “fame” may have brought them to Jesus, but there was something more that kept them there. Especially in a deserted place where there wasn’t enough food for them all! If it had been nothing more than curiosity, they wouldn’t have stayed too long to get back to food and lodging. Certainly not families with children! His message about God’s love for them and God’s promise to set things right was something many of them longed to hear. Again, I would say that it was Jesus’ words, his deeds, and more than that his very person that compelled them to stay.

In one sense, the whole New Testament was written to try to define this compelling quality the first Christians encountered in Jesus. They used terms like “Messiah,” “Son of God,” and “Savior” to try to express who Jesus was. But there are many, many other ways they tried to define this “quality” he had. One interesting episode is when Peter was preaching to Gentiles for the first time in the book of Acts, in the household of the Roman Centurion Cornelius. I think it’s interesting because up to that point, they were speaking to Jewish crowds, and they used Jewish concepts. But when he tried to explain who Jesus was to Gentiles for the first time, Peter said that Jesus was the one whom God had “anointed” with “the Holy Spirit and power,” and that he “went about doing good” and healing all who were suffering (Acts 10:38). And he explained this not only by the power with which God had “anointed” Jesus. He also explained it by insisting that “God was with him.”

I think that’s a pretty good way of explaining this mysterious quality about Jesus that was so hard for people to define: when people met Jesus they sensed that God was with him. But there’s another interesting episode where the disciples described this quality of Jesus in a different way. In Luke’s story about the disciples who met the risen Jesus as they were on the road to Emmaus, after Jesus revealed himself to them—that is, after their “eyes were opened” and they were able to recognize him—they said, “were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road?” (Lk 24:32). I’ve always liked that way of describing the impact of Jesus. When we have eyes to see the truth and ears to hear what Jesus is saying to us, our hearts burn within us. St. Paul describes this experience as the Spirit of God in our hearts crying out “Abba, Father!” (Gal 4:6; cf. Rom 8:15-16). In other words, we recognize in our own hearts that we are encountering God when we encounter Jesus.

I mention these last examples because there may be a tendency among us today to think that we don’t have the same direct access to this compelling quality of Jesus that the people of ancient times had. They had their encounters with Jesus firsthand, like the fishermen in our lesson today; we only have their stories, and the stories of those who have gone before us. But that doesn’t mean that our faith in Jesus is only “secondhand.” Jesus’ words and the stories about his deeds still cause our hearts to “burn” within us with the conviction that there’s something there that’s life-changing for us as well. And we have the Spirit of God in our hearts no less than they did, so that we too can recognize that when we encounter Jesus, we’re encountering God, and our hearts cry out, “Abba, Father!” No less than the first disciples, Jesus’ words, his actions, his very person still have the power to influence us today. We only need the eyes to see and the ears to hear that Jesus is among us still, calling us to follow him.



[1] © 2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 1/21/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Monday, November 15, 2021

Faith, Hope, and Love

 Faith, Hope, and Love

Mark 13:1-13[1]

Whether we are aware of it, I think the events of the past year and a half have triggered fear and even panic in many of us. Much of what we knew as “normal life” before Covid has changed. From school to work to shopping to entertainment to church to family, the “foundation stones” of our lives have been shaken and, in some cases, toppled over. All of this leaves us wondering if things will ever be the same. Even those of us with the strongest faith can find ourselves dealing with fear and even panic over what the future holds. And panic can make our commitment to Christ, and with it our faith, hope, and love seem to evaporate into thin air.

Sadly, times of great change and the fear and panic they inspire have done just that to many good people. Some have provoked panic with their cries that “the end is near!” Great change, panic, and cries of “the end is near” seem to go together historically. Many of us here remember the “Y2K” scare twenty years ago. Due to concerns of a massive glitch in the system, the fear was that most of the world’s computers would crash at 12:01am on January 1, 2000. This was supposed to have affected everything from banking to power to our homes to the food supply. Of course, that date came and went, just like all the other “end is near” moments throughout history. All the fuss was for nothing.

 Believe it or not, our Gospel lesson from Mark relates to this. The reading for today is the introduction to a whole chapter that addresses the fears that were going around Judea in those days. What we need to understand is that the Jewish people had lived under the rule of foreign powers for centuries. It shouldn’t surprise us to know that they resented and resisted those powers. By the time the Romans came on the scene in the century before Jesus was born Judea was like a powder keg. And there were several who tried to “light the fuse” to overthrow the Romans through violent revolt. Most of them claimed to be the “messiah,” which was the equivalent of crying “the end is near” in that day.

That was the backdrop of Jesus’ conversation with his disciples. In response to their admiration of the temple in Jerusalem, Jesus made a prediction that probably would have shocked them. He said, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down” (Mk 13:2). The Temple not only represented the place where God was thought to dwell, it was the core of the Jewish faith and the Jewish nation. For the temple with its massive buildings to be “thrown down” would have been the equivalent of saying “the end is near!” That was the only setting in which they could imagine such a catastrophe.

So they asked Jesus, “when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” (Mk 13:4). They were asking him for “the inside track” so they would know what was going to happen and when. But Jesus didn’t indulge them. Instead, he simply told them that there would continue to be upheavals and crises that would seem like everything was coming to an end, just as there had been all along. Nation rising against nation, earthquakes and famines, and other disruptions like them have been around throughout the history of the world. But Jesus told them not to give way to panic because these things “do not mean that the end has come” (Mk 13:7, TEV).

Instead, Jesus called them to persevere in following him through all the hardships they would face. And he didn’t hesitate to warn them that they would certainly face hardships if they followed him. They would be “handed over” to the authorities and called on the carpet for their faith. Even members of their own families would betray them. Jesus warned them, “you will be hated by all because of my name” (Mk 13:13). A quick survey of the book of Acts confirms that these things actually happened to the first Christians. But Jesus promised them, “the one who endures to the end will be saved” (Mk 13:13). Rather than giving in to fear and panic, Jesus called them to persevere in their faith and continue to follow him.

I think it’s easy to understand why there are people who may look at what is happening in our world and think that the “end is near.” Some have lost careers and homes and family members to this pandemic. When it seems like all the foundations of our lives are crumbling, it’s easy to panic. When we give in to fear it’s incredibly difficult to practice the faith and hope and love that define what it means to follow Jesus. Instead we withdraw, we disconnect from the community of disciples, we lose faith, and along with our faith we lose hope. When we let panic overwhelm us, it’s hard to live out our faith by loving God and loving others.

But that’s why Jesus calls us not to give into panic, especially in times of great change. In fact, he said that if we respond to the upheavals of this life by holding fast and staying the course, it will offer a “testimony” to those around us (Mk 13:9). When it seems like the foundations of our world are crumbling, and we don’t know what the future holds, we can trust in the one who holds the future firmly in his loving hands. That faith can help us hold on as well to the hope that no matter how hard things may get for us, God will turn it all to good one day. And our faith and hope can give us the courage to put love into practice. Instead of withdrawing into the fears and suspicions panic provokes, that’s how we “endure to the end”: through faith, hope, and love.



[1] © 2021 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 11/14/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Monday, November 08, 2021

With All Your Life

With All Your Life

Mark 12:38-44[1]

There’s an old saying that says “you can’t judge a book by it’s cover.” Of course, in reality we do that all the time. As a veteran book shopper, I can tell you a thing or two about the way bookstores arrange their books. The best sellers are the ones with their covers facing out so that everyone can see them easily. Then there’s the artwork and design. Selling books is a business, after all, and a lot goes into making a book look “good enough” to buy. I must confess that a book’s cover may attract my attention at least at first. The real truth is that we judge a lot more than books by their “covers.” We do it with people all the time.

But one of the lessons of Mark’s Gospel is that it’s not always the people who put on a show of being “religious” who actually put their faith into practice. In fact, many of those who would have been considered the “spiritual leaders” of that day turned out to be cruel in real life. Many of them fell under Jesus’ criticism of putting on a “show” of being godly. In fact, in Mark’s Gospel, even the twelve “Apostles” failed to grasp the most basic things Jesus was trying to teach them. Instead, it was some of the most unlikely people who demonstrated their faith by what they did. It is these “unlikely people” who serve as the examples for true faith.

In our Gospel lesson for today, we see one of those “unlikely” people: a widow who gives an offering that would have been barely noticed by most people. Mark says that while Jesus was watching the crowd, “A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny” (Mk 12:42). Now there’s a translation problem here. What she gave was probably worth more than an actual penny is worth today. But even so, it wasn’t enough to buy food for a single meal. Perhaps we might say it was the equivalent of a dollar in our terms. It wasn’t going to make or break the Temple treasury!

By comparison, Mark tells us that “Many rich people put in large sums” (Mk 12:41). We don’t know exactly what kind of container held the offerings, but apparently it was something that would have been very public. And since money in that day consisted of coins, it would have been obvious to all present that they had given a lot. But Jesus wasn’t impressed with their large gifts. He said it this way: they “have contributed out of their abundance” (Mk 12:44). They gave what was convenient to give. They gave what may have been “pocket change” to them. They gave what they wouldn’t miss. They made a show of being “religious,” but that’s all it was: a “show.”

To reinforce that point, Jesus says this widow gave more than all the rest! On the surface of things, that might sound like a contradiction. They gave “large sums” of money, while what she gave was virtually worthless. And yet, what makes the difference for Jesus is that “she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on” (Mk. 12:44). What she gave may have seemed pointless to those who put in so much, but she gave everything she had. It may not have been “more” in terms of the actual amount, but it meant a lot more to her than what they gave meant to them.

There’s actually a play on words going on in this verse. In one sense, “all she had to live on” would refer to all the money she had. But the original word is bios, and it could also be translated “her whole life.” When you consider that we’ve just talked about Jesus’ agreement with a particular scribe about the greatest commandments, I think this comment takes on added significance. While the scribe in our lesson last week knew that the greatest commandment was to love God with your whole life, this widow put that into practice. By offering her last two coins to God she loved God “with her whole life.”[2]

It might seem unlikely that Jesus would notice this widow and her gift, but in Mark’s Gospel, it’s unlikely people like her who set the example for the rest of us. The woman who suffered from hemorrhages broke taboos to seek out Jesus, and her faith became the example for a leader of a synagogue (Mk 5:21-43). A woman who was a foreigner came to Jesus and refused to take no for an answer when she sought healing for her daughter (Mk 7:24-30). The blind beggar named Bartimaeus cried out to Jesus for mercy, and he kept crying out even when Jesus’ own “followers” tried to shush him (Mk 10: 46-52). And this widow gave all that she had as a demonstration that she loved God with all her life.

As we approach our stewardship commitment for next year, I think all of this can help us. In the first place, the Bible teaches that everything we have and everything we are belongs to God. But none of us can afford to give all that we have to God. While this widow did that, there were social support programs in place that would have assured she didn’t go hungry. Secondly, the fact that what she gave was virtually worthless indicates that it’s not the actual amount that you give, it’s what it means to you in terms of demonstrating your commitment to love God. St. Paul said it this way, “Whatever you give is acceptable if you give it eagerly” (2 Cor 8:12, NLT). That last part points us to a third lesson: whatever we give, what honors God is that we give it “eagerly” or “cheerfully” (cf. 2 Cor 9:7). When we give generously, not only of our possessions, we love God with all our lives.



[1] © 2021 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 11/7/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Adela Yarbro Collins, Mark, 590.

Monday, November 01, 2021

At the Center

 At the Center

Mark 12:28-34[1]

It’s hard to avoid the truth that most of us live our lives with ourselves at the center. We may choke on the very words if we try to say it out loud. I think that’s one reason why we have always used the “younger generation” as the scapegoat for our selfishness. But the truth of the matter is that humanity has always lived with themselves at the center. Even when we do something to help someone else, we often do it for approval or simply to feel good about ourselves. Of course, there are those among us who rise above this and truly serve others. But if we’re honest we have to admit that they are the exception that proves the rule.

Although we prefer to locate “selfishness” in someone else, anyone else, it’s something we all have to deal with if we are going to try to follow Jesus as his disciples. That’s why week after week we gather here and confess to God, to one another, and to ourselves that we live with “self” at the center of our lives. That’s one of the basic definitions of the “sin” we try to confess together every week in worship. Our confession is not only an attempt to acknowledge that we all fall short. It’s also a way of trying to reorient our lives with God at the center.

That’s what our Gospel lesson for today is about: the question of what it looks like to live with God at the center of our lives. The question comes at the end of a debate that the religious leaders had been carrying on with Jesus, hoping to make a fool out of him in front of the people who followed him. One torah scholar asks him which of God’s commands was the “first,” or most important. You may find it surprising that I don’t believe this scribe was trying to trip Jesus up. Mark says he asked this question when he saw that Jesus answered “well” those who were antagonizing him. I think the scribe noticed that he was “on the same page” with Jesus, and so he was genuinely curious about how Jesus understood the heart of what God wants from us.

It was no coincidence that Jesus chose love for God and love for neighbor in reply. The “first” commandment came from the Shema, which was and still is the heart of the Jewish faith (Deut 6:4-5): “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength” (Mk 12:29-30). And the “second” commandment (Lev 19:18), “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” is part of a summary of God’s mandates in Leviticus called the “holiness code”. It’s called that because its theme is “you shall be holy for I the Lord your God am holy” (Lev. 19:2). While we assume these two commands go together, what we should understand is that it’s very likely Jesus was the first one to put them together like this.

But in one sense, Jesus wasn’t really breaking any new ground here. These two “great” commands reflect a fundamental framework of faith that runs throughout the whole Bible. It begins with the fact that God loved the family of Abraham and Sarah, and chose them to be a blessing to all the families of the earth. This is called the “covenant” in the Bible, and it speaks of a relationship that God established in his grace and mercy. When we miss the fact that everything else is based on God’s love, we can get on the wrong track about God and about what it means to live with God at the center of our lives.

The next part of that framework is that the Bible insists that those who have experienced God’s love, those who are fortunate enough to live in a relationship in which they know that God loves them unconditionally and irrevocably, will respond by loving God so much that we will put God at the center of life. That’s what it means to love God with all your heart. We may find it surprising that the way to do this is by following God’s ways, by putting God’s commands into practice in our everyday lives. We get confused about this because we think a life of obedience somehow earns for us the right to God’s love. But that’s not it at all. We live this way because we know God loves us, not to gain God’s love.

The next step is that we who love God in this way will demonstrate it by the love we show others. This way of loving God by loving others isn’t just about how we feel about people. It’s about what we do. And the Bible gets very practical, very specific, and very down to earth about what that looks like. We love others when we show them mercy and justice, when we treat them with dignity, respect, fairness, compassion, and kindness. We love others when we feed the hungry and welcome the stranger. That whole framework, responding to God’s love by loving God in such a way that we love others is what living with God at the center of our lives looks like.[2]

I’ll be the first to admit that living this way isn’t easy, and it isn’t something we learn quickly. I find that the farther I go in my journey toward discipleship, the more aware I am of how I fall short. The lure of trying to satisfy our own desires is one that can be incredibly difficult to recognize, and even more so to avoid. But I don’t think that God expects us to be perfect in this life. I think the point is that we take seriously the call live in a relationship with God, a relationship that is grounded in God’s love for us. The way we do that is by loving and serving God through loving and serving others. That’s what living with God at the center looks like, and it’s a challenge that takes a lifetime to master.



[1] © 2021 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 10/31/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 4.1:54-66, where he maintains that this has always been God’s intention against all efforts to “break up” this “one covenant” of grace into a series of different “covenants.”  He disputes the “federal theology” of Johannes Cocceius, whose ideas are probably best known today in the “Dispensationalism” of Tim LaHaye and Hal Lindsay.