Showing posts with label Hebrew Prophets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hebrew Prophets. Show all posts

Monday, October 01, 2018

Words of Life


The Words of Life
John 6:58-69[1]
These days, most of us have someone whose words we tend to take to heart. Whether it’s Sean Hannity or Rachel Maddow, or someone in between, we all have a spokesperson whose voice carries more weight than anyone else’s. I suppose that’s always been true—whether it was a parent or a teacher or a pastor. For many of us, Walter Cronkite was the voice of truth. For many of his almost 20 years as the CBS news anchor, he was known as “the most trusted man in America.” His candid reporting style was summed up best by his signature sign-off, “And that’s the way it is.” If Walter Cronkite said it, people tended to believe it.
While we may not be used to thinking of our final prophet in those terms, I think it’s fitting to conclude our series with Jesus of Nazareth. While we believe he was more than a prophet, he was certainly not less than a prophet. He spoke God’s truth to the people of his day in a way that turned their world upside down and captured the hearts and minds of many who followed him. To be sure, there were many, perhaps the majority, who rejected him and his teachings. But for those who had ears to hear his message, it changed their lives for good. Jesus delivered a message that was at times shocking, and at times comforting. But in every way, Jesus’ prophetic ministry powerfully impacted people’s lives. And his words still have the power to change lives today.
In our Gospel lesson for today, we step into an episode from Jesus’ life that marked a significant turning point in his ministry. After an amazing event in which he fed a huge crowd that was following him, many of them tracked him across the Sea of Galilee to hear and see more of what Jesus might do. When he challenged them, they asked what they must do. His answer was to believe, and in what seems like typical fashion for them, they asked him to produce a “sign” to convince them. They even suggested one: more food! They asked him to reproduce the miracle of the manna in the wilderness. But Jesus was always wary of faith that depended on proof.
Instead he called them to simply believe in him and in his words. In fact, he went beyond that and claimed to be the true “bread from heaven.” He told them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty” (Jn. 6:35). They had all kinds of problems with that. They argued that he came from Nazareth; therefore claiming to be the “bread from heaven” offended them. He said that only those who ate this true “bread from heaven” would live forever. They responded to his implication that they were to literally eat his flesh with disgust. And as a result, John’s Gospel tells us that “many of his disciples turned back” (Jn. 6:66).
Of course, the truth was that Jesus was not calling his disciples to literally eat his flesh. He made that clear when he said, “It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life” (Jn. 6:63). What Jesus was looking for was a kind of faith that would hear his words as “words of life.” He was looking for disciples who would hear his words so well that they would transform the way they lived their lives. And in the process, they would find the power of his words giving them a whole new kind of life.
What we may not expect to hear about this is that it wasn’t entirely unheard of. The prophets Jeremiah and Ezekiel both called the Jewish people receive a “new heart” that would bring about a fresh commitment to God. In John’s Gospel, Jesus says time and again that what he did and said was only what came from “the Father.” When he broke the Jewish traditions of keeping the Sabbath to heal a paralyzed man, he said, “I seek to do not my own will but the will of him who sent me” (Jn. 5:30).  When the Jewish leaders came right out and asked him who he thought we was, Jesus replied, “When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will realize that I am he, and that I do nothing on my own, but I speak these things as the Father instructed me” (Jn. 8:28). Jesus’ teachings were “the words of life” because they came from God.
At the end of the episode in our Gospel reading, after the Scripture says that many turned back and followed him no longer, Jesus put the question to the twelve. He asked them straight out, “Do you also wish to go away?” (Jn. 6:67). I find it interesting that it is Peter who answers for them: “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life” (Jn. 6:68). Peter, who would deny even knowing Jesus, and then return to feed his sheep, is the one who acknowledges the life-changing power of Jesus’ words: “you have the words of eternal life.”
In our day, I think if you asked people whether Jesus spoke for God, you would find many people answering, “Yes.” But it’s one thing to acknowledge Jesus as a prophet who speaks life-giving words. It’s another thing altogether to have the ears to hear those words in such a way that we take them to heart. It’s another thing yet to put Jesus’ words into practice in our daily lives so that we actually experience the new life they are meant to give us. Many throughout the ages have admired Jesus as a teacher of great truth. Many have even made the effort to study Jesus’ teachings in order to better understand them. But Jesus calls us to something more. He calls us to make his teachings so much a part of our lives that it changes the way we live from the inside out. Then we too will know in a practical way that Jesus’ words are the words of life.


[1] ©2018 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 8/26/2018 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Too Small a Thing


Too Small a Thing
Isaiah 49:1-6[1]
Lately we’ve heard a lot of dialogue about “privilege.” I think we as a people have always had to deal with the fact that there are some who seem to have advantages that others don’t. There was a time when it was commonly assumed that privilege was earned and deserved, and that those who lacked privilege had only themselves to blame. Maybe some still hold that view. These days much of the talk has shifted to a critical view of privilege. Those who have privilege have an unfair advantage. They may have gained that advantage by questionable means. And anyone with privilege is certainly suspect for the simple fact of having it.
While it’s true that there are plenty of people out there taking unfair advantage of others, I think our current conversation is too shallow. It fails to take into account the fact that many who have privileges or advantages use them in the service of others. That was the sentiment behind President Kennedy’s statement, “Those to whom much is given, much is required.” And, of course the original form of this was spoken by Jesus: “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required” (Lk. 12:48). It’s an approach to privilege that seems to have been overlooked in our current setting—both in the way some talk about privilege, and in the way some approach their own privileges. 
 The prophet Isaiah addressed the issue of privilege among the Jewish people. From the days of Moses, they had a strong sense of being a “peculiar people,” a nation chosen and blessed by God. But as the prophets make clear, the Jewish people had turned that blessing into a right they saw as theirs. They thought that blessing would spare them from all harm, even from suffering the consequences of their disobedience to God. They saw the privilege of being God’s “chosen people” as an advantage they had a right to claim for themselves.
But Isaiah reminded them that the purpose of their calling in the first place was not simply their own privilege, but so that they might be a “light to the nations” (Isaiah 49:6). This theme goes back to the days of the Exodus, when Moses had said that they would be a “priestly kingdom and a holy nation” (Exodus 19:6), a whole nation of people who would speak for God and represent God’s saving purposes in the world. It goes back even beyond that to the days when Abraham lived in Ur of the Chaldees, and God called him to leave for a place “to be determined”! The purpose was to make Abraham a blessing to all people: “in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Genesis 12:3).
Somewhere along the way, however, that outlook got lost. But the Jewish people weren’t the only ones to take that path. The church throughout the ages has made the very same mistake.  Like the Jewish people of old, Kings and popes and preachers of all kinds have mistaken God’s blessing for a privilege they had a right to claim. And they have believed this privilege gives them a claim to advantages like power, wealth, and influence that is theirs by right.
But the God whom Isaiah called his people to worship is “the everlasting God, the creator of the ends of the earth” (Isaiah 40:28), the one who “sits above the circle of the earth” and “stretches out the heavens like a curtain” (40:22). The God who called them and us to serve as light to the world is the one who said, “I made the earth, and created humankind upon it; it was my hands that stretched out the heavens, and I commanded all their host” (Isaiah 45:12). I think the point is to place the calling of a particular people as the “chosen ones” in the proper context. As Isaiah said so long ago, to view their privilege as something that belongs to them alone is “too small a thing” for the God who is in the process of renewing all creation.
When we walk down that path, we not only make our God too small, we abandon the very lifeblood of the church—our calling to carry out the same task as God’s “servant” of whom Isaiah spoke so long ago. Like God’s “servant” we are called to serve, not to be served. Like God’s “servant” we are called to bring God’s grace, mercy, and love to those who have been written off: to the least and the last and the left out. It’s an approach to “privilege” that sets aside a self-serving attitude and sees God’s blessing as a calling to serve others.
It’s an approach to privilege that recognizes that “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required.” It says to the hungry “here’s food,” and to the stranger, “you’re welcome here.” It’s a point of view that says to those who are thirsty, “here’s water,” and to those who are homeless, “here’s shelter.” It seeks to set free all those who are captives and to bring comfort to those who are suffering in any way. It’s a standpoint that helps those in poverty to find a better life. It’s an attitude that views privilege as a means of helping others.
The point of God’s blessing on a special people was never to bestow upon them a privilege they could use to their own advantage. Rather it has always been a calling to serve others. It is not about claiming rights we think belong to us, but transforming this world into “the kind of world God had in mind when He created it.”[2] Anything less than that is “too small a thing” for the God and Father of our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ who is working through the Spirit of life to make all things new!  And it’s “too small a thing” for us as well.


[1] ©2018 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 8/19/2018 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Not in the Drama


Not in the Drama
1 Kings 19:1-15a[1]
One of the effects of our preoccupation with what we see on various screens is that we tend to be fascinated with celebrities. Whether they are actors or politicians or athletes, anyone who has any kind of presence on a screen seems to have a larger-than-life persona. For some reason, the “lifestyles of the rich and famous” seem to grab our attention. Of course, it would seem that many celebrities go out of the way to attract headlines and exposure. Whether they actively seek publicity or not, the fact of the matter is that none of them are truly “larger than life.” They are human beings, flawed and fallible, just like the rest of us. Sometimes the drama in their lives that gets reported so often simply serves to demonstrate their humanity.
I think we may have a similar attitude towards the leading characters of the Bible. Prophets like Moses and Elijah stand out for the extraordinary feats they accomplished. I think we like to see them as uncompromising people who rise above the level of ordinary human beings. Their dramatic personalities only seem to confirm for us that these are no ordinary servants of God. But if you read the Bible carefully, you find evidence of their humanity written into the stories about them. Our lesson for today provides us with an example.
The prophet Elijah comes fresh from what would appear to be a great victory. He has challenged the prophets of Baal to a contest to determine whom the people would serve as God. Each of them were to prepare an altar with a sacrifice and call on their gods to consume the offering by fire. While the prophets of Baal cried out fervently most of the day, nothing happened. Late in the afternoon, Elijah prayed a simple prayer, and not only the sacrifice, but the altar and everything around it were consumed by fire. It was meant to convince Israel to be faithful to God alone.
More than that, Elijah was responsible for the fact that there had been a drought in Israel for three years. Needless to say, he wasn’t the most popular prophet around in those days. After defeating—and slaughtering—the prophets of Baal, Elijah notified the King of Israel, a godless man named Ahab, that the drought was over. And after three years, the rains came back. It would seem that Elijah had demonstrated the power of God in two dramatic events. You would think that he would be celebrating his success as God’s prophet.
But in our lesson for today, we find an episode that “blatantly” demonstrates Elijah’s humanity.[2] In the face of a threat on his life by the Queen, Elijah flees into the wilderness. He makes it a day’s journey before he collapses. And when he does, he prays a prayer that seems strange for so powerful a prophet of God. He prays to die, saying “I am no better than my ancestors” (1 Kings 19:4). I have to wonder what inspired that prayer. It would seem that Elijah was disappointed with God because none of his dramatic displays made the difference in the people of Israel he had expected. Perhaps Elijah thought that the people would return to the Lord as soon as they saw the dramatic signs he had performed. But that’s not what happened.
Despite Elijah’s pessimism, the “angel of the LORD” gave him rest and food for a long journey into the wilderness to the “mount of God.” There, Elijah was permitted to present his complaint to God “in person,” so to speak. And when the LORD asks Elijah, “what are you doing here?” Elijah’s response is a classic expression of self-pity: “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away” (1 Kings 19:10). It doesn’t sound much like what you’d expect to hear from a bold prophet of the LORD fresh from two apparent “victories”!
In response, the LORD teaches Elijah two important lessons. First came a powerful wind, then an earthquake, and then a fire. But each time, the Scripture says, “the Lord was not in it.” Finally, there came “a sound of sheer silence” (1 Kings 19:12). Elijah came out and found that was where the Lord was. He repeated his complaint, word for word. God’s answer to him was, “Go, return on your way.” I think one lesson was that God is not to be found in the drama of altars consumed by fire, but rather in the patience of faithfully serving him. Later, God assured Elijah he wasn’t the only one left: he said that there were 7,000 in Israel who remained faithful to him. I think the second lesson for Elijah is that it wasn’t all up to him!
When we see how the “movers and the shakers” in our world throw their weight around, we can feel pretty small and weak in comparison. We may think, as Elijah did, that we’re just not up to the task of working for God’s kingdom of peace, justice and freedom. But I think we can draw on the lessons Elijah learned that day in the wilderness. In our day as in his, the success of God’s kingdom is not up to us. That’s God’s business. Our job is to seek to faithfully serve him to the best of our ability. I think the other lesson Elijah learned can help us as well. In a day when celebrities constantly grab the headlines, and everything bigger is seemingly better, even in the church, I think it’s important for us to be reminded that God is not in all the drama. Rather, God is in the quiet, steadfast, faithful efforts of those who continue to serve him.


[1] ©2018 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 8/12/2018 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
[2] Cf. Choon-Leong Seow, “The First and Second Books of Kings,” New Interpreter’s Bible III:145.

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Finding Life


Finding Life
Deuteronomy 10:12-22[1]
It’s hard to mention Moses without thinking about the Ten Commandments. And the Ten Commandments may remind us of Judge Roy Moore. He’s the former Alabama Supreme Court chief justice who commissioned a 5,000-pound monument depicting the Law of Moses. What you may not know is that “the Rock,” as it has been called, went on tour. That may not seem like a big deal, until you think of what it takes to lug around two-and-a-half-ton sculpture. It rode on a flatbed truck and had to be lifted off and back again with a five-ton, fifty-seven-foot crane![2] What a perfect image to portray the commandments as “burdens, weights and heavy obligations,” as one commentator put it.[3]
That’s how we tend to think of the Ten Commandments, the Law of God, and the Hebrew Bible in general: as a burden. We tend to think that the people of Israel labored under the burden of demands they could never fulfill, trying to win God’s love, trying to earn salvation by their good works. And we see Jesus as the one who set us free from that burden by bringing salvation to us as a gift. As a result, we might be tempted to think that the Ten Commandments, the Law of God, and the Hebrew Bible in general are pretty much irrelevant.
But that’s not what our prophet for the week, Moses, has to say about the matter. We may not be accustomed to thinking of Moses as a prophet, but in the Jewish world, including that of Jesus’ day, Moses was the prophet above all others. He spoke the word of God to the people. In our lesson for today, he begins with a question: “What does the Lord require?” (Deut. 10:12). It’s a straightforward question and at first the answer sounds clear enough: “to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all his ways, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul.”
The problem comes when we read on: “and to keep the commandments of the Lord your God and his decrees that I am commanding you today, for your own well-being” (Deut. 10:13). That doesn’t compute for us on several levels. Most of us don’t equate “loving God and serving him” with keeping the commandments. But the witness of Scripture is clear that loving and serving God means “walking in all his ways.” Knowing God truly has always made a difference in the way people live out their lives—in every aspect of life.
Part of the reason why our Scripture lesson doesn’t compute for us is because it seems like Moses is saying that finding life depends on what we do. Somehow, it seems that our salvation is a matter of earning God’s love. And yet, Moses specifically says that the Lord chose people to live in relationship with him because he “set his heart in love on your ancestors” (Deut. 10:15). The original covenant with Israel was based on the same love as the new covenant. Keeping God’s commands was never a means of gaining or achieving salvation apart from God’s grace. 
If that’s the case, then why were the commands given at all? Why did Moses insist that the people keep the commandments? While it was never a matter of earning a relationship with God, the commandments were a way of defining what a genuine relationship with God looks like. They spell out in daily practice what it looks like to “walk in all God’s ways, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul.” The Bible teaches that it’s a part of God’s original intention for the human family: to lead us into a relationship characterized by love and faith that are not coerced and by heartfelt obedience that puts God’s will into practice in daily living.
I think the final aspect of this passage that doesn’t compute for us is found in the line that keeping the commandments is something that was intended to be “for your own well-being” (Deut. 10:13). They were meant to instruct us about how to find the life that is truly life, the life that God intended for us all to have in the first place. That is the heart of what the Law or Torah was about: instructing us in what it looks like to “walk in God’s ways.” And when we do so, we realize that God’s ways are not burdensome at all, but rather they are paths that show us the way to find life.
We’re not used to talking about the commandments in this way.  We’re much more familiar with talking about them as a burden, a weight, or a heavy obligation—like a 5,000-pound monument made out of Vermont granite.  But that misunderstands their role in God’s purpose for his covenant people, both then and now. The purpose of that covenant is to form a relationship. Not surprisingly, what God looks for is for his people to commit themselves to this relationship wholeheartedly. In that context, the purpose of the commandments is to spell out what it means to live a life defined by love for God. They were given as the parameters within which to live our lives—parameters that are intended to enable us to find a life that is full of living hope, lasting joy, and genuine love, both toward God and others. Elsewhere, Moses calls this way of living “choosing life” (Deut. 30:19-20). As we learn what it means to love God, to serve him wholeheartedly, and to walk in his ways, we find the life that is truly life.


[1] © 2018 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 8/5/2018 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
[2] Joshua Green, “Roy and his Rock,” The Atlantic Monthly (October 2005);  http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2005/10/roy-and-his-rock/4264/ .
[3] Cf. Thomas G. Long, “Dancing the Decalogue,” in The Christian Century (March 7, 2006):17.

Plans


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




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

The Plumb Line


The Plumb Line
Amos 7:7-15[1]
As many of you know, I spent a year studying in Germany over 25 years ago. It was an amazing experience in many ways. The pace of life was much slower, by design. I lived there the year “the Wall” came down and East Germany along with the rest of Eastern Europe opened their borders. One of the interesting aspects of living abroad was getting accustomed to the housing arrangements. Some aspects of that experience were more “interesting” than others. If you’ve been abroad, you know what I’m talking about!
One of “weird” facts about the apartment we lived in is that the building was 400 years old! It was prime real estate, because it was right in the heart of the “pedestrian zone” of Tübingen. And yet, because the building was 400 years old, the corners weren’t quite square and the walls weren’t quite plumb. To be sure, the building had been renovated, probably more than once. It had all the necessary appliances and the décor was fairly modern. And I’m sure the walls were straight up and down when they were built. But after 400 years, those picture-postcard buildings in that quaint German University city were all leaning on each other! Four Centuries offers a lot of time for buildings to settle!
Amos, our prophet for this week, lived in a time when the commitment of the people of Israel to “doing justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly with your God” had had time to “settle.” Those who were at the top of the social ladder were living in relative prosperity. Unfortunately, as is so often the case, prosperity has a way of undermining spiritual and moral values. As Jesus said, “You cannot serve God and wealth” (Matt. 6:24). Amos could see by the conditions of the day that especially the leaders of Israel were more concerned about serving their own wealth than about serving God.
Unfortunately, that kind of obsession with wealth has a way of blinding us to our own spiritual poverty. The word of the Lord that Amos received was almost “sneaky,” in that he began by predicting the downfall of Israel’s enemies. One by one he declared God’s judgment on the nations surrounding Israel. And I can imagine that as he proclaimed his message of judgment on those around them, his audience nodded in approval. They were blind to the condition of their own spiritual house.
But Amos finally came back to the people of Israel. And he pronounced even stricter judgment on them because they should have known better: they were God’s people. And yet they failed to practice the most basic principle of God’s justice: to show compassion to the most vulnerable among them. This was the “plumb line” by which God measured their lives. But instead of practicing compassion, their mistreatment of the poor echoes like a refrain throughout the book of Amos. He said that they were “trampling on the needy, and bringing ruin to the poor of the land” (8:4). The corners of their spiritual house were not square, and the walls were not plumb.
In all of this, the prophet’s message of judgment was this: “You twist justice, making it a bitter pill for the oppressed. You treat the righteous like dirt” (5:7, NLT). And perhaps the most shameful aspect of their behavior was that it was all so that the powerful in Israel could further enrich themselves. It was all so that they could live in the lap of luxury: they built “houses of hewn stone” (5:11), feasted on couches made of ivory (6:4), and drank wine by the bowlfuls (6:6). And yet, because they had not followed the “plumb line” by caring for the most vulnerable, the walls of their spiritual “house” were leaning so badly they were on the verge of collapse.
I don’t think there is much debate about the fact that the rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer in our country. Income data over the last several decades makes it clear that a greater portion of wealth is concentrated in the hands of the very rich. And with some notable exceptions, they seem to be using their influence to continue to enrich themselves. In Amos’ day the solution was straightforward: “establish justice in the public square” (5:15). In our day, it may seem more complicated. But the plumb line remains: showing compassion to the most vulnerable in society. Jesus said it this way, “as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me” (Mt. 25:40).
When I was in Germany, I also witnessed the fall of the oppressive regime in Romania. In the aftermath, humanitarian aid came pouring in from all over Europe. And my church in Germany sent several of us with supplies to some churches. Along the way, I met with a missions supervisor in Vienna. He observed that the church in Eastern Europe had thrived under communism: the churches were bursting at the seams. But he said the church in Western Europe had languished under capitalism. I’m afraid that prosperity tends to have a deadening effect on our relationship with God.
The antidote has always been to serve the needy. We live in a time when the most vulnerable in our society seem to be getting poorer and needier every year. And, of course, the real question is how to find true and workable solutions to poverty. I don’t pretend to know the answer. But it seems to me that the walls of our spiritual house are leaning. It is a time when, perhaps more than ever, we must hold fast to the plumb line of God’s justice: showing compassion to the most vulnerable in our world.


[1] © 2018 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 7/15/2018 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Monday, September 17, 2018

Thus Says the Lord


Thus Says the Lord
Ezekiel 2:1-5; 36:25-28[1]
I wonder whether we really believe in the possibility of new life any more. I wonder whether we ever believed in it. When you listen in on conversations about people, or about communities, or about society as a whole, there’s not much hope to be found there. It’s my impression that the way we talk about others can be rather negative. I’m not sure where this cynical approach to our fellow human beings comes from. I would say there’s probably not one source, but many. And chief among them would be the experiences of our own interactions with people who are less than kind to us, to put it mildly. Our experience makes it hard to believe in new life.
I find this to be troubling, because at the heart of our faith is the promise and the hope of new life through our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ. That new life isn’t something we wait to receive when we pass from this world. It’s something that’s meant to change the way we live here and now. And the message of the Scriptures is that there is no one who is ever “too far gone” to find new life in Jesus Christ. But our negative outlook on people, as evidenced by the way we talk about them, flies in the face of our faith. I wonder if we really believed in the promise of new life whether the way we talk would take on a different tone.
The prophet Ezekiel had plenty of reasons to have a rather negative outlook on his situation. He, along with a fair amount of the people of Judah, had been conquered by the Babylonians. And as a result they had been deported to Babylon, a place far away from everything they knew. That included, in their minds, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Like most other people in that day, the Israelites believed that their God ruled over their land. But they were a long way from their land. They were living in forced captivity in a foreign land ruled by foreign gods. Given that assumption, you can understand why they might have given up hope.
Right into the midst of that seemingly desperate situation, Ezekiel had a vision that must have knocked his socks off. It was a vision of God: not tied to the land of Israel far away, but right there with him in Babylon. And the gist of the vision was that God is not restricted to one land, but rather he can go wherever he wants. In addition, the vision assured Ezekiel that his people were not “out of sight, out of mind” to a God dwelling way back in their homeland, but rather he is a God who sees what is happening everywhere. Ezekiel, along with many of his people, may have given up hoping in God, but God had not given up on them!
Like many of the prophets, the book of Ezekiel recounts his “call” by God to speak on his behalf. God was well aware of the spiritual condition of his people, and he was sending Ezekiel to confront them about it. In our lesson for today, God instructs Ezekiel to tell them “Thus says the Lord GOD” (Ezek. 2:4). And in fact, that phrase becomes a refrain throughout the book of the prophet Ezekiel, along with “The word of the LORD came to me.” God was not finished with his people, and he sent Ezekiel to be the one through whom God would declare his message of hope and new life to them.
One of the central passages where Ezekiel expresses that hope is in chapter 36. There, Ezekiel reminds the people that because of their failure to live for God with all their hearts, they had “profaned the name” of God in their exile. And yet, despite the people’s failure, through the prophet God announces that he is going to renew his people. He says, “I will sprinkle clean water upon you,” and “A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within you” (Ezek. 36:25-26). The idea is that, by his Spirit, God would radically and thoroughly change his people so that they would live for him. And they would live for him not because of external demands or the threat of punishment, but because God would change their hearts and give them his Spirit. The idea is that they would then want to live for God.
Many of us even in the church live our lives with a kind of “functional atheism.” We speak the words of faith when we come to church, but we live our lives as if there were no God. Or at least as if whatever God there may be doesn’t really make any difference in our lives. Bad things still happen to good people. Those who are truly wicked in this world seem to get along just fine, thank you very much. And those who are truly good struggle and suffer at the hands of the power-mongers. If we believe only the evidence we see that powerful people tend to take advantage of others, it’s no wonder we wind up with a negative outlook on the prospect of new life.
But just as in the days of Ezekiel, so today the God and Father of our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ will not leave us with hardened hearts. God continues to work in each of our lives by his Spirit to give us new hearts—hearts that love God and love our neighbors because we have experienced God’s love for us. Hearts that know the joy that comes from seeds of new life that God’s Spirit continues to plant within us. Hearts that continue to hope that the suffering we see in this world is not God’s last word on humanity. Perhaps when we let that really sink in, we will have a different outlook on life in general. Perhaps when we learn to trust the promises made in the name of the Lord, we will be open to new life in ourselves and in others.


[1] © 2018 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 7/8/2018 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.