Staying Connected

Staying Connected

John 15:9-17[1]

Love always leaves its mark on us.[2] It just goes with the territory. No matter whom or what we may love, it leaves its mark. Whether it’s grandparents or parents, brothers or sisters, children or grand­children, friends or neighbors, our love for them changes our lives. We do all kinds of things for those we love that we might not do otherwise. Of course, we don’t practice our love perfectly. Fortunately, we don’t have to practice love perfectly for it to make a difference. Even our fallible love has a way of defining the character of our lives. More than that, it often dictates how we spend our time in the routines of the day. Love always leaves its mark on us.

Last week we saw that Jesus used the metaphor of a vine and branches to portray our relationship with him. Like branches on a grapevine, we  will “bear much fruit” as we “abide” in him. I must confess that I’ve always found this language confusing. How do we in this day and age abide in Jesus who lived so long ago? We believe that the Risen Lord is constantly present in all of our lives. And we believe that we can still have a relationship with him. Last week we talked about “abiding” in Jesus in terms of remaining “connected” to him. But again, I think it can be a mystery to us just exactly how we’re supposed to do this. The question lingers in our minds, “How do I stay connected to Jesus?”

Most of the answers to this question throughout the ages have focused on spiritual practices. We stay connected to Jesus through prayer. Or we stay connected to him by regularly reading the Bible. Some have gone deeper and viewed this as a mystical relationship, involving some kind of contemplation or meditation. While all of these practices can be helpful to us, I must confess that I have always felt that there was something missing. It all just seemed too detached from the way we actually live our daily lives. And I think staying connected to Jesus is meant to be something that leaves its mark on how we live our lives every day.

I would say that our lesson for today actually provides us with a very practical, down-to-earth kind of answer to this question. We stay connected to Jesus by following his example in our daily living. That may sound too “easy” but in practice it’s not! I think it starts with our relationship with God. Jesus says: “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my command­ments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love” (Jn 15:9-10). Now, the language of John’s Gospel can come across as kind of convoluted at times, but I think what Jesus is saying is that everything he did was motivated by God’s love. Because he knew God’s love, he devoted his entire life to carrying out what God wanted him to do. I think that’s where it starts for us as well. We can commit our lives to following Jesus’ example because we also know God’s love for us.

The next step is to figure out what it looks like to follow Jesus’ example in our daily lives. Again, Jesus says, “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.” That seems straightforward enough. If we want to stay connected to Jesus, we will obey his command to love others.[3] But there’s more to it here. Jesus says, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (Jn. 15:13). That’s the way Jesus loved us; and if we stay connected to Jesus it will mean that we love others by laying down our lives for them. That’s how love works—when we know that we are loved, we demonstrate it in our daily lives by sharing that love with others.

I think Jesus is talking about transforming our whole relationship with God. In one way, Jesus sums up all that it means to stay connected to him in terms of being his “friends.” I think it’s important to notice that he’s not talking about his being our friend, but rather he’s talking about what it looks like for us to be his friends. Jesus says, “You are my friends if you do what I command you” (John 15:14). Jesus made us his friends by laying down his life for us. And we stay connected to him by doing the same thing: we make others our friends by laying down our lives for them.[4] That might not change the way they relate to us, but it will most definitely change the way we relate to them.[5]

I think Jesus’ point here is that if we decide we’re going to live our lives by staying connected to him, then his love will leave its mark on our lives. When we truly experience the love of Jesus it will work its way into every aspect of life. And that means that we will practice the same kind of love he showed us toward one another, and beyond that toward all people. We’re not talking about how we feel towards others.[6] Staying connected to Jesus is about a commitment to follow his example by loving others enough to lay down our lives for them.[7]

To me, this is the point of John 15: Jesus is calling us all to respond to the love we have received by sharing that love with others. I’ll be the first one to admit this is a tall order. I think we have to acknowledge that none of us will be able to do this perfectly. But this call is perhaps one of the most challenging ones in the Bible. It’s not something you can do “in your spare time.” It will require us to devote much more of our time and energy if we determine to “stay connected” to Jesus by going out and becoming “friends” with those around us and laying down our lives for them.

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[1]© 2021 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 5/9/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves, 121, “to love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken.”

[3] Cf. the Heidelberg Catechism of 1562, which defines loving your neighbor as yourself in terms of being “patient, peace-loving, gentle, merciful and friendly” to all, even your enemies (cf. The Book of Confession, 2016, p. 65)!

[4] See especially Jürgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 114-121, where he construes the Christian life based on the  “friendship” which Jesus models and we are called to emulate.

[5] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, Ethics of Hope, 202: “We are not the enemies of our enemies; we are ‘the children of our Father in heaven’, ... . If we do not react to enmity with enmity, we creatively make it possible for our enemies to turn away from their enmity and to enter into the life we share.”

[6] Cf. Desmond Tutu and Mpho Tutu, Made for Goodness: And Why This Makes All the Difference, 25: “Perfect love is not an emotion; it is not how we feel. It is what we do. Perfect love is action that is not wrapped up in self-regard, and it has no concern with deserving. Instead, perfect love is love poured out. It is self-offering made out of the joy of giving. It requires no prompting. It seeks no response and no reward.”

[7] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Spirit of Life, 255: Love means combining, “respect for the other person’s freedom” to be an individual “with deep affection for him or her as a person.”

Through It All

Through It All

Isaiah 43:1-7[1]

If you’re like me, when “all’s right with the world” it seems to be a lot easier to trust in God. When life is relatively stable, when the family is whole and healthy, when we find joy and meaning in our daily activities, it’s not hard at all to see God’s hand of blessing at work in our lives. But when you take all that away, it’s also fairly easy to believe that God has abandoned us. When unexpected change hits us squarely in the face, when our family is fractured by the challenges and changes of life, when life itself seems to lose its joy and meaning, we may wonder whether there’s even a God at all. Let alone one who actually cares for us.

This problem isn’t unique to us or to modern life. Throughout the ages, people who have faced tragedy and hardship have questioned the love of God. And many have questioned the very existence of God. For those of us who may have made it through life relatively unscathed, we may have a hard time understanding this. But I would say that most people suffer some kind of heartbreak at some point in their lives. And when we do, it’s a very natural thing to ask the question, “Why?” It’s even a biblical question. From the Psalms to the Prophets to Jesus on the cross, the question “Why?” echoes throughout the Scriptures.

Unfortunately, the Bible never gives us an answer to that question. What it does is to assure us over and over again that, in whatever circumstances we may find ourselves, God’s love for us never fails.[2] That is the message of our Scripture lesson from Isaiah for today. If we look at these verses by themselves, we may find them comforting to some degree. But I think the real impact of any passage like this comes when we understand the situation of the people to whom these words were originally spoken. They were living in forced exile, far from anything familiar. They were people who had lost everything—homes, lives, land, and even in some cases family.  They had gone through the worst catastrophe imaginable.  They had gone through the flood, and felt overwhelmed.  They had gone through the fire and felt burned.[3]

Into this situation of devastation and brokenness, the prophet declared God’s unfailing love. This is no mere glib promise. The language of the Scripture lesson makes it clear that God’s love for his suffering people is set in the context of Creation and Redemption, the actions that define God’s character in the Bible.[4] When the prophet says, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine” (Isa. 43:1), he is speaking of the love that constitutes who God is. For him to stop loving them would mean that God would stop being true to himself. For him to stop loving them would mean that God would have to stop being God.[5]

This is the basis for the prophet’s assurance to the people: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you” (Isa. 43:2). Now, I think we sometimes have a tendency to read too much into promises like this. From a real-life perspective, you can’t go through a flood without getting soaked through.  And you can’t go through a fire without at least smelling like smoke, and maybe even getting singed.  But the promise is not that we will never suffer, but rather that these hardships will not consume us. And the reason for that is that God promises to be with us and to sustain us with his unfailing love.[6]

And in case there is any doubt about whether this promise has any teeth to it, God stakes his reputation on it. Through the prophet, God makes it clear that the basis for the promise of his unfailing love is the essential nature of who God is: “I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior” (Isa. 43:3).[7] No matter what might come their way, God assured the people that they would always be surrounded by his loving presence: He says, “Do not fear, for I am with you” (Isa. 43:5). That, too, is an admonition that echoes throughout the Bible. From Moses to Revelation God is continually reassuring his people that they do not need to be afraid of what life may bring their way, because He is with us through it all.[8] And he always will be.

In contrast to those who may think that our faith is unrealistic, time and again, the Bible promises us the support of God’s loving presence in the midst of the worst that can happen to us. Our faith is not naïve to the fact that there is a tragic dimension to life.[9] Think of it: at this very moment, how many people on the planet are suffering—suffering the loss of a loved one, suffering the lack of basic necessities, suffering because they have been displaced by disease or war, suffering because of the cruel and inhumane way in which we can treat one another. A faith that promises “everything will be just fine” without taking full account of the hardships of life would be worse than naïve; it would be obscene.[10]

But that is not the nature of our faith. Right in the midst of the worst that life can throw at us, the Scriptures promise us over and over that God’s love for us will never fail. They promise that no matter what may come our way, God will sustain us with his presence. They promise us that even if we have to go through the flood and through the fire, they will not destroy us. And the basis for that assurance is the very nature of who God is: a God whose love for us never fails, a God who is our Savior in all the circumstances of life, a God who is with us no matter what.[11] In all of life, we can trust that God’s love will sustain us and bring us through it all.

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[1] ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 1/10/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Jürgen Moltman, The Crucified God, 243, points above all to God’s presence at the cross, where he says that God “suffers the death of the Son in the infinite grief of love”; cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ, 172-78; cf. also Paul F. Knitter, Without Buddha I Could Not Be a Christian, 126: “The God embodied in Jesus suffers not only for the victims of the world; this God suffers like them and with them.”

[3] Cf. Paul D. Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 62, where he says that the people “needed a word of assurance, a promise that there was a future beyond the baffling suffering and shame they had suffered.” Cf. also Mary W. Anderson, “Who is Like Thee?” The Christian Century (Jan 26, 2000), 87, where she says, “in the midst of their captivity the people are wondering how their God can be omni-anything when they are so miserable.”

[4] Cf. Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 61, where he observes that creation and redemption go together in this text: “the Creator God is the God who enters history to establish a relationship with human beings and to heal their brokenness.”

[5] Cf. Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 61, where he recognizes the tension between the expression of God’s “wrath” in the judgment the people have undergone and the affirmation of God’s love here. He says, “Contradictory as they may seem on the face of things, expressions of divine anger, as genuinely as affirmations of divine steadfastness, reveal the commitment of God to authentic,  reciprocating love.”

[6] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 3.1:39, where he refers to the assurance of the the Heidelberg Catechism (ques. 26) that “whatever evil he sends upon me in this troubled life he will turn to my good, for he is able to do it, being almighty God, and is determined to do it, being a faithful Father” (cf  Book of Confessions 4.026).  Cf. also Christopher R. Seitz, “The Book of Isaiah 40-66,” New Interpreters Bible VI: 381.

[7] Cf. Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 64, where he says, “only one word could satisfy the deepest yearning of the fearful heart, a word of assurance that the Creator of all, …, loves radically and unconditionally. The reason this defeated people could hope for a future beyond tragedy is a remarkable promise, a promise filled with the creative power that belongs exclusively … to love.”

[8] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, Theology of Hope, 24-25: “Neither in presumption nor in despair does there lie the power to renew life, but only in the hope that is enduring and sure.” For him, fear is hopelessness that expresses itself either as presumption or despair.

[9] Cf. John Caputo, On Religion, 118. He says that “the love of God” is distressed by the question raised by that which is “loveless” in this world: “Does anyone know or care that we are here?” He puts it more clearly when he asks (p. 119), “Is there nothing beyond the heartless and unrelenting cosmic rhythms, nothing loving, kind, or fair?” Ultimately while he recognizes that he cannot make this “tragic sense of life” go away, he will not agree that “the tragic is the real truth” of our lives. In fact, he insists that “faith is faith precisely in the face of the facelessness of the anonymous” and is always “haunted” by “this specter of a heartless world of cosmic forces.”

[10] See Frederick Buechner, Whistling in the Dark, 61-62: “Anyone who claims to believe in an all-powerful, all-loving God without taking into account this devastat­ing evidence [i.e. the Holocaust] either that God is indifferent or powerless, or that there is no God at all, is playing games. … If Love itself is really at the heart of it all, how can such things happen? What do such things mean?”

[11] Cf. Caputo, On Religion, 123, where in the face of the prospect that all that really exists is a heartless, tragic world of anonymous cosmic forces, he affirms, “The name of God is the name of the One who takes a stand with those who suffer, who expresses a divine solidarity with suffering, the One who says no to suffering, to unjust or unwarranted suffering.”

All of LIfe

Mark 12:38-44

All of Life[1]

I’ve told many of you about my Grandfather, Harold Brehm, who was born and raised in Talmage. He served both as an elder and a trustee in the Methodist church. When I was a young “preacher boy” studying for the ministry in college, he proudly told me that his minister never once mentioned money from the pulpit.  At the time, that impressed me. Later I realized that the Bible, and especially Jesus, have a lot to say about money. I realized it wasn’t such a good idea never to mention money from the pulpit if I wanted to make the Bible’s message the focus of my preaching.

The reality is that our attitude toward our possessions—including our money—is a very important part of our lives. And that includes our spiritual lives. How we relate to the things of this world reveals a great deal about our relationship to God, our convictions about the meaning of life, and what really determines the choices we make.[2] I’m not sure that we are always aware of this fact. Our culture encourages us to measure our worth as a person by the kind of car we drive, or which designer’s name is on our clothes and accessories, or by the size of our financial portfolio. The Bible makes it clear, however, that the quality of our lives comes from what’s in our hearts, not the labels we wear on our clothes.

In our lesson from the Gospel of Mark for today, Jesus addresses this issue. It would seem that there were religious leaders who were so driven by their own conceit that they made a great show with their beautiful robes and their “presence” in worship.[3] He made it clear that it was all for show. He said that their “long prayers” were simply “for the sake of appearance” (Mk.12:40). In other words, they wanted to look like they were spiritual.[4] But the fact that their real agenda was about themselves was revealed by the indictment Jesus made that they “devour widows’ houses”![5] In scripture, widows, like orphans and resident immigrants, came under God’s special care.[6] But these “spiritual leaders” were somehow defrauding some of the most vulnerable people in their society. It seems clear where their hearts really were—wrapped up in their own self-interest, their own image, and their own greed.[7]

The light of Jesus’ words exposed not only the religious leaders, but the prominent people in the community as well. The Gospel lesson tells about an episode when he was at the Temple, watching the crowd making their contributions. We don’t know exactly what kind of mechanism they used for this, but apparently it was something that was very public.[8] And there were “many rich people” who “put in large sums” (Mk. 12:41). Now, in that day and time, contributions were made in coins, and so it would have been obvious to all present that these “pillars of the community” were contributing large amounts of money.

Jesus doesn’t actually say anything directly about these people or their gifts. He doesn’t necessarily say that they were giving large contributions just to gain attention. But he contrasts their substantial gifts with the seemingly insignificant contribution of a poor widow. The conversion of ancient currency into modern equivalents is not exactly precise, but I think the translation captures the situation: she “put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny” (Mk. 12:42). What is not spelled out is that these contributions were given to support the Temple, which was a magnificent structure even by the standards of our time. And it supported a rather elaborate structure of priests and other attendants who served in the Temple. Someone could easily ask what difference her meager contribution could possibly have made to such a massive institution.[9]

But Jesus takes a different approach. He doesn’t consider what percent of the Temple’s budget her two coins supported. He focuses on what her contribution represented in terms of her personal wealth. As it turns out, these two small coins were all she had to live on! By contrast, the “large sums” given by leading members of the community were offerings that they could spare! Jesus said it this way: “For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on” (Mk. 12:44).

I must confess that it’s hard to understand what would motivate someone who had so little to give everything she had as an offering to the Temple. But perhaps there are a couple of clues here. First, these two coins represented a fraction of what it would cost to even feed herself for one day. And second, the Greek word that is translated “what she had to live on” also means “her life.”[10] It may be that she had reached the place where she had exhausted her own resources, and she was offering herself completely to God, trusting him to care for her needs.

It’s funny how we wait to do that until we are in dire straits. When we lack for nothing, we can forget that all that we have and all that we are comes from God’s hand as a gift. But I think Jesus’ reflections about this widow’s offering serves as a dramatic reminder of the truth that our attitudes about our possessions reveal the true nature of our relationship with God. Those who gave what they could spare may very well have felt satisfied with themselves. But they hadn’t offered themselves completely to God as the widow did. That’s the real meaning of stewardship. Whether you give what you can spare or all that you have, the point is that we pledge our gifts as a way of reflecting our commitment to dedicate all of life to God.[11]

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[1] ©2015 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 11/8/2015 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Richard Foster, Celebration of Discipline, 88-89, where he discusses stewardship under the heading of the discipline of “simplicity.” He says that it is an inner attitude that becomes an outward way of life, and he defines this attitude in three ways: “to receive what we have as a gift from God”; “to know that it is God’s business, not ours, to care for what we have”; and “to have our goods available to others.” Cf. also Shirley C. Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 200-201, where he discusses stewardship under the heading of the doctrine of creation. He says, “To say that we are God’s creatures is to emphasize our total dependence on God. … Acknowledgement of total dependence—with thanksgiving—is the first characteristic of a right relationship with God.” He goes on to say (p. 201) that we are also creatures whom “God has equipped and empowered to be God’s partners and to participate in Gods’ own work in and for the world.”

[3] Cf. Pheme Perkins, “The Gospel of Mark,” New Interpreters Bible VIII:681. She says, “Although not all scribes would be in the position to indulge in ostentatious display of this sort, those who were retainers of the wealthy high priestly families around Jerusalem might have taken on the trappings of wealth and power.” For example, the scribes in Galilee appear to be somewhere in the middle of the social scale, and would not have been able to make such a show. From a different perspective, Joel Marcus, Mark 8-16, 852, says that the “stole” in Jewish usage was associated with priests, therefore, Marcus concludes that “the NT scribes were probably priests and Levites” (cf. further ibid., 855-56). Nevertheless, Perkins, “Mark,” NIB VIII:682 acknowledges that “The story of the wise scribe (12:28-34) makes it clear that this description of the scribes should not be treated as being stereotypical of all scribes in the Jewish community. It describes the rich and powerful at their worst.” Cf. similarly Marcus, Mark 8-16, 852.

[4] Cf. Marcus, Mark 8-16, 854: “In the honor-conscious Greco-Roman society, such distinctions would have been important signs of status, but in the Markan context they fall under the judgment that in God’s end-time dominion, the first (protoi) will become last (cf. 10:31).”

[5] Cf. Marcus, Mark 8-16, 855, where he says that this was probably related to actions taken by the scribes after a woman’s husband has died and bequeathed her the estate. He cites Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke X-XXIV, 1318, who suggests that “the scribe, acting as a probate lawyer, has cheated the widow out of the estate by overcharging for his services.” Marcus suggests (Mark 8-16, 856), “Another possibility is that the passage has in view the forcible seizure of property by the priests, who are also scribes, for nonpayment of tithes.” He cites  Josephus, Jewish Antiquities 20.206 in support.

[6] Cf. Marcus, Mark 8-16, 855: “Widows, along with orphans, resident aliens, and the poor in general are often mentioned in the OT as objects of special concern to God since they are without the usual social support systems. Their well-being, therefore, is a sacred trust, and to violate it, for example by defrauding them, is an especially heinous crime (see, e.g., Jer 7:6-7; Ezek 22:7; Zech 7:10-14; Mal 3:5).”

[7] Cf. Lamar Williamson, Jr., Mark, 233, where he observes that in this passage the greed of the religious leaders is exposed, “its ugliness compounded by the hypocrisy of trying to hide their avarice behind ostentatious piety.”

[8] See Perkins, “The Gospel of Mark,” NIB VIII:682. Contrast Marcus, Mark 8-16, 857-59, where he offers the opinion that this story is a “historicized parable.”

[9] Cf. Williamson, Mark, 234, where he observes the irony that “She gave this to the Temple, the extravagance and imminent destruction of which will be the subject of the very next verses.”

[10] Cf. Marcus, Mark 8-16, 858.

[11] Cf. The Book of Confessions, “The Heidelberg Catechism” 4.086 (p. 58), which asks the question why we are called to good works in general if we are redeemed by grace. The answer could also provide a motivation for stewardship as a specific type of “good work”: “Because Christ, having redeemed us by his blood, is also restoring us by his Spirit into his image, so that with our whole lives we may show that we are thankful to God for his benefits, so that he may be praised through us, so that we may be assured of our faith by its fruits, and so that by our godly living our neighbors may be won over to Christ.”  Cf. also  The Book of Order 2015-2017 W-7.5003 (p.149): “As stewards of God’s creation who hold the earth in trust, the people of God are called to a. use the earth’s resources responsibly without plundering, polluting, or destroying, b. develop technological methods and processes that work together with the earth’s environment to preserve and enhance life, c. produce and consume in ways that make available to all people what is sufficient for life, d. work for responsible attitudes and practices in procreation and reproduction, e. use and shape earth’s goods to create beauty, order, health, and peace in ways that reflect God’s love for all creatures.” On the basis of this very full and specific statement, the paragraph concludes, “In gratitude for the gifts of creation, the faithful bring material goods to God in worship as a means of expressing praise, as a symbol of their self-offering, and as a token of their commitment to share earth’s goods.”

Serving the Lord, Serving Others

Serving the Lord, Serving Others

Romans 12:9-21[1]

We who practice faith can have a problem coming across as a bit fuzzy or even vague about what it is that constitutes our faith. Sometimes, I’m afraid that when we start talking about our faith, it can sound like we’re beating around the bush. We may talk about the warm feelings we have when we pray or read the Bible or come to church. Or we may say things like, “Going to church just gets my week off to a good start.” I think that leaves average people who have no church background scratching their heads. The fact of the matter is that the New Testament speaks in very specific language about what it means to practice the Christian faith. St. Paul makes some very definite statements about what living the Christian life looks like in concrete terms. And what it boils down to is that we are called to serve the Lord by serving one another.

When it comes to getting more specific about what this looks like, in our lesson for today the Apostle starts with the instruction to practice mutual love that is genuine (Rom. 12:9). And this isn’t just any kind of “love.” When we love someone we normally expect them to love us in return.[2] But the love that Christians are to have for one another is a love that gives without any expectations. It’s modeled after the love that God has for us all, the love by which God sacrificed his Son in order to bring us all back home.[3] The love that we are called to practice is a love that takes the initiative, that makes the first step, that seeks out those who have broken the relationship, and does whatever is necessary to repair the breach.[4]

This kind of love calls us to do things we might not normally do: to “outdo one another in showing honor” (Rom. 12:10); to “contribute to the needs of the saints” (12:13), that is sisters and brothers in the Christian community; to “extend hospitality to strangers” (12:13), or those outside the community of faith. This kind of love calls us to “rejoice with those who rejoice” and to “weep with those who weep” (12:15). It calls us to “live in harmony with one another” (12:16) as well as to “live peaceably” with all people (12:18).  It calls us to renounce pride and arrogance and to embrace the “lowly” (12:16).  And this kind of love calls us to refrain from repaying evil in kind, but rather to practice what is “noble in the sight of all” (12:17).[5]

Now, because we’ve heard most of this before, I think we may have the idea that this is all pretty standard. We know we’re supposed to “love our neighbors as ourselves” and that the prime example of what that looks like in real life is Jesus. But when we translate this unusual kind of love into our context, I wonder if we take seriously how far outside our comfort zones St. Paul is taking us.[6] I’m afraid that the hard truth about most churches in our society is that when it comes down to it, we really practice this kind of love with our friends and neighbors. We tend to reserve this kind of compassion and generosity for those who look like us and talk like us and live like us.[7]

When it comes to extending that kind of love to those who are truly different from us, whether it’s the way they look or the way they talk or where they come from or how they live, I’m afraid we’re not so willing to go that extra mile. I’m not just pointing my finger at others here. Last Summer I went on a Presbytery-sponsored youth mission trip to Austin. There we worked with young people who are homeless and living on the edge of the University of Texas campus. It’s truly ironic--you have people who are simply trying to scrape together $20 a day in order to survive living on the streets, and all around them are University students who come from “good families,” many of whom are living in luxury apartments, with their every desire met by their fairly well-off parents.

Well, most of us fell somewhere in the middle of social continuum between homelessness and being wealthy. But we were on a mission trip, so one day we helped the homeless wash their clothes, and offered them fresh clothes.  Another day we cooked lunch together. And another day we worked in a food pantry that served people who were struggling just to make ends meet. And another day we served breakfast to the homeless in downtown Austin. It was all a great experience, and we all practiced a compassion and generosity that might compare with the best of the saints. But it was a mission trip. You can do those kinds of things on a mission trip. Unfortunately, however when you come home and run into someone like that, most of us tend to make sure our windows are rolled up and our doors are locked.

The truth is that it’s much more difficult to practice the self-giving love that St. Paul is talking about when it’s a matter of encountering those who are different from us in our daily lives. And yet, I think that is precisely what Paul had in mind.[8] When the grace of God really gets under your skin, you live all of a life as a “living sacrifice.” And that goes far beyond just a good feeling from coming to church. It means that we feed the hungry and give a cup of cold water to the thirsty and care for the sick and the lonely--and not just among ourselves. It means that we “associate with the lowly” or “make friends with those who seem unimportant” (12:16, NCV), as one translation puts it.[9] Yes, practicing our faith means serving the Lord by serving one another.  But as hard as it may truly be for us to accept this, perhaps most importantly practicing our faith means serving the Lord by serving those in our world who are different from us.

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[1] ©2014 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 8/31/2014 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together, 34: “human love is by its very nature desire ... . So long as it can satisy this desire in some way, it will not give it up ... . But where it can no longer expect its desire to be fulfilled, there it stops short ... .

[3] Cf. Carl E. Braaten, “Romans 12:14-21,” Interpretation 38 (July 1984): 292: “Underlying Paul's exhortation to the Christian community is an ethic of agape-love which continues the downward curve of God's own love, ... . Paul's exhortation is not simply a piece of ethical idealism. It is a description of conduct appropriate to the new age in which God has revealed his love in Christ to a world at odds with his will. Paul is describing the new life in Christ as a reflex of the love God has shown to us, while we were still enemies. The love of God and the life of the Christian are interwoven in Christ. Paul puts it succinctly in Ephesians 5:2; ‘Walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us.’”

[4] Cf. Desmond Tutu and Mpho Tutu, Made for Goodness: And Why This Makes All the Difference, 25: “Perfect love is not an emotion; it is not how we feel. It is what we do. Perfect love is action that is not wrapped up in self-regard, and it has no concern with deserving. Instead, perfect love is love poured out. It is self-offering made out of the joy of giving. It requires no prompting. It seeks no response and no reward.” Cf. also Bonhoeffer, Life Together, 35-36.

[5] Cf. Michael Barram, “Romans 12:9-21,” Interpretation 57 (Oct 2003): 424: “Romans 12:9-21 describes the behaviors that would constitute an adequate response to God’s grace. ... Paul is not talking about ethics in a distant, theoretical sense. His moral reflections address the reality of embodied existence ("a living sacrifice").”  Cf. also Frederick W. Schmidt, What God Wants for Your Life, 179: “doing the will of God is not a matter of grand designs but of daily, commonplace investment in the lives of others.”

[6] Cf. the Heidelberg Catechism of 1562, which defines loving your neighbor as yourself in terms of showing “patience, peace, gentleness, mercy, and friendliness” to all, even your enemies (The Book of Confessions, Heid Cat 4.107)! It means to “work for the good of my neighbor wherever I can and may” (4.111). 

[7] Cf. Braaten, “Romans 12:14-21,” 292: “If we are honest with ourselves, we will confess that it does not come naturally to love the way Paul is spelling out in this passage, because its attraction is not limited to the brothers and the sisters, members of the same body, the same class or caste or color or creed.”

[8] Cf. Barram, “Romans 12:9-21,” 425: “The love Paul hopes to see among the Roman Christians is not a theoretical ideal; it is something manifested in daily behavior.”

[9] Cf. Braaten, “Romans 12:14-21,” 293: “The hallmark of genuine love in the Christian life is the willingness to associate with the lowly. ‘Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly.’ Why should I? Where will that get me? Paul gave his theological reason for this unusual command in I Corinthians 1:28; ‘God chose what is low and despised in the world ... so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.’ This awareness breeds the humility of love.” Cf. also Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 4.2:188-192.

Keeping Our Word

Keeping Our Word

Jn. 14:23-29[1]

  There was a day when “your word is your bond” was one of the primary codes of our culture.  I doubt anyone would say that these days.  I don’t believe that integrity has completely vanished from our society, but for most of us, these days the watchword is, “don’t believe everything you hear!”  Keeping our word sounds simple, but there are so many ways in which life in our world complicates things.  Sometimes keeping our word is relatively easy—you make a promise to do something and you do it.  But “keeping our word” goes beyond that, it seems to me.  Integrity means living a life that is the same in private as it is in public.  That’s a different matter altogether.  That kind of “keeping our word” isn’t so easy or straightforward.

  In our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus gives us another of the characteristics that are to define those who follow him: they keep his words (Jn. 14:23).  Earlier in the chapter, he said it a little differently: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (Jn 14:15).  That might sound strange to those of us who are used to the language of grace promising us freedom from the bondage of living by rules.  But in Jesus’ day and time, “keeping” the commandments was a perfectly normal way of expressing a life of faithfulness to God.[2]  “Keeping” God’s word meant internalizing the teachings of Torah to the extent that they shaped every aspect of one’s daily life.  It meant living in harmony with God’s truth and God’s justice, with God’s love and God’s mercy.[3]

  I think people get confused about all that these days.  We tend to fall into one of two extremes—we either obsess about every little detail of Scripture in an compulsive effort to obey God perfectly, or we ignore biblical teachings altogether and “fly by the seat of our pants.”  It seems like we have an “all-or-nothing approach” to “keeping” God’s word.  Unfortunately, life is rarely that cut-and-dried.  We are often placed in situations where the “correct” answer is far from clear.  That’s when the true test of “keeping” God’s word comes out.  If we’ve really internalized the central principles of Scripture—principles like doing justly, and loving mercy, and walking humbly with God—then we can follow them as guideposts when we are uncertain.  In our ever-changing world, we are going to be placed more and more into situations where we have to live somewhere between “all” or “nothing” when it comes to keeping God’s word. 

  One of the challenges this lesson presents us with is that Jesus doesn’t exactly say to “keep” God’s commands, he says those who love him will keep his commands.  I think many of us still think that Jesus’ commands are easier than God’s.  With Jesus, all we have to do is believe, love God, and love others, and we’re just fine.  But a quick overview of just a portion of Jesus’ teachings--the Sermon on the Mount--makes it clear that Jesus doesn’t make it easier for us to obey God, he makes it harder.  When it comes to the commandment, “You shall not kill,” Jesus said not only should you not kill another, you should also not give in to the hateful anger that devalues the life of others by the way you speak to them!  Time and again, Jesus didn’t make it easier to live a life of “keeping” God’s word, he made it harder. ^[4]  And for the record, there’s really no distinction at all between the essential commands of God in the Hebrew Bible and the teachings of Jesus. Throughout the Scriptures, the calling is to love God with everything we are and to love our neighbors as ourselves.  That’s infinitely harder than a checklist of “do’s and don’ts” that you can mark off.  I don’t think any of us will ever be able to mark off that we “loved our neighbor as ourselves” in every circumstance of life.  And when it comes to “loving God with all our being,” I don’t think we even have to go there. 

  And yet, Jesus said that one of the distinguishing marks of those who follow him, of those who love him, is whether or not we “keep” his word.[5]  This doesn’t mean that our relationship with God is something we have to earn by our obedience.  Rather, it’s like a relationship where two people love each other and want the best for each other—not because of some external rule or code of conduct, but because of the love they have for each other.  Jesus said that if we love him, we’ll follow his teachings, his way of life, his example—simply because the love we have for him compels us to do so.[6]  That’s how we practice the kind of integrity where our private lives match up with our public lives.

  Jesus said that one of the ways we can demonstrate the new life of the resurrection is through the way we put his teachings into practice.  When our love for God and for Jesus Christ truly define who we are, then our lives will be public display of what it means to keep God’s word.[7]  Fortunately, it’s not a do-it-yourself project.  Jesus promised the disciples that “the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you” (Jn. 14:26). ^[8]  With the Spirit’s help, we can live a life of keeping God’s ways, which means a life of fulfilling our promise to follow Jesus.  When we keep our word in that way, then we can truly demonstrate a new and different way of living to the world around us.

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[1] © 2013 Alan Brehm.  A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm at First Presbyterian Church of Dickinson, TX on 5/5/2013.

[2] Cf. Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel According to John XIII-XXI, 638; cf. also Gail R. O’Day, “The Gospel of John,” New Interpreters Bible IX:746.

[3] Cf. James L. Mays, Psalms, 127; Hans-Joachim Kraus, Psalms 1-59, 323.

^[4] Cf. Ernst Haenchen, John: A commentary on the Gospel of John. , 127: “The ethic of the spirit is not ethical anarchy, but a true ethic with the highest requirements one can imagine: the unlimited sacrifice, like the love with which Jesus loved them in his entire human existence”

[5] Cf. Brown, Gospel According to John XIII-XXI, 646: “love and keeping the commandments are but two different facets of the same way of life.”  Cf. also O’Day, “The Gospel of John,” NIB IX:747: “the sign of faithfulness to Jesus’ commandments is to live a life of love grounded in Jesus’ own love.”

[6] Cf. the Heidelberg Catechism 4.090-091, which defines eternal life as “Complete joy in God through Christ and a strong desire to live according to the will of God in all good works.”  Cf. also Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship, 69: “faith only becomes faith in the act of obedience”; cf. also ibid., 76: “Only those who obey can believe, and only those who believe can obey.”

[7] Cf. Gerard S. Sloyan, John, 183: “Obedience is the hallmark of Jesus’ disciples, the proof that they love”; cf. also

^[8] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 1.2:277–278, where he uses Paul’s teaching in 2 Cor. 3:12-18 about the Spirit of the Lord changing believers into Christ’s likeness as a means of understanding what it means in John’s Gospel to “keep” Jesus’ word and/or commandments (Jn. 8:51; 14:15, 21, 23; 15:10).

Not Too Good to be True

Not Too Good to be True

Isa. 43:1-7; Lk 3:15-22[1]

Karl Marx is famous (or infamous, depending on your point of view) for his criticism of religion.  He said it was the “opiate of the masses.”   By that he meant that promises of a better life in the by and by dulled people’s senses to the oppression and injustice all around them.  Many people think of Marx as an enemy of the faith, and angrily reject his views as dangerous and anti-Christian.  But I take a different approach.  I think Marx was a disappointed idealist.[2]  He was raised on the prophets’ teachings and their promises of justice and peace and freedom in God’s kingdom, and instead what he saw all around him was injustice and violence and oppression.  And he saw the church as a major player in that injustice and violence and oppression.  Many of the ideals he articulated are actually almost verbatim from Scripture!  Unfortunately he took those ideals out of their original context of faith, and turned them into a formula for violent social upheaval that caused even more suffering!

When you look at some of the promises of Scripture, I think you can understand why Marx got so disillusioned.  Take our lesson from the book of the prophet Isaiah for today.  The prophet, speaking in the name of the Lord, promised the Jewish people that even if they had to go through the floods they would not be overwhelmed, and even if they had to go through the fire they would not be burned!  Just on the surface of it, it sounds too good to be true.  Who can go through the fire without getting burned?  Who can go through a flood without getting soaked through?  And when you realize that the prophet was addressing people who were living in exile, it makes the contrast even more stark.[3]  These were people who had lost everything--homes, lives, land, and even in some cases family.  They had gone through the worst catastrophe imaginable.  They had gone through the flood, and been overwhelmed.  They had gone through the fire and been burned.  Or so it would seem from their perspective.

But when we go through the flood and the fire, sometimes our perspective isn’t always the best one.  We can’t understand why catastrophic losses come into our lives.  We may feel like God has broken his promises because we tried our best to trust and obey him, and instead of a “reward” we got punished.  But that’s when we have to remember that we simply don’t know what God is doing in our lives--in good times and in bad times.  When hardships come into our lives, we don’t know what the pain is doing to open us up to what God may have in store for us in the future.  I think the mistake we make is that we think that the Scriptures promise us that God will bring us through the flood and the fire unscathed.  But you can’t go through a flood without getting soaked through.  And you can’t go through a fire without at least smelling like smoke, and maybe even getting burned.  But the promise is that these hardships will not consume us, not that we won’t suffer.  The promise is that even if we have to go through the floods, we will not drown, and even if we have to go through the fire, we will not be destroyed.[4] 

This is also the day when we commemorate Jesus’ baptism.  You may wonder what in the world Jesus’ baptism has to do with the promises from the Scriptures that may seem too good to be true.  Well, I think it has everything to do with them.  It’s these very promises from the prophetic scriptures that continually hold out for us the possibility of light in our darkness--that no matter what we may have to go through in this life, God loves us and is always with us.  And it seems to me that Jesus’ baptism was one more sign that God was beginning to fulfill those promises that may seem too good to be true.  At least that’s the way John the Baptist saw it.  Listen to what he has to say about Jesus in Gene Peterson’s The Message: “I’m baptizing you here in the river. The main character in this drama, to whom I’m a mere stagehand, will ignite the kingdom life, a fire, the Holy Spirit within you, changing you from the inside out” (Lk. 3:16).  Seems pretty clear that John sees Jesus as the one who is going to ignite the fire of God’s kingdom by pouring out the Spirit.[5]  And so it’s no coincidence then that when Jesus is baptized, the heavens are opened and the Spirit comes upon Jesus.  It’s only fitting because he’s the one who’s going to bring the light of God’s kingdom into this dark world. He’s the one who’s going to fulfill the promises the prophets made in the name of the Lord.[6]

In Jesus’ Baptism, we have another event from his life that affirms our hope in those promises that sound too good to be true.  In the NT, it seems clear that the early Christians believed Jesus was the one who was bringing the light of God’s justice and peace and freedom into this world of injustice and violence and oppression. We may still see too much injustice, violence, and oppression in our world today.  But God is not finished with us yet.  Those promises that seem too good to be true are at the heart of our faith, that “all flesh shall see the salvation of God” (Lk. 3:6).  The season of Epiphany is not only a time to celebrate the light that has dawned; it is also a time to reaffirm our hope in the promises that are not too good to be true, promises of all the good things that God is always working to bring into all our lives

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[1] © 2013 Alan Brehm.  A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 1/13/2013.

[2] Cf. Keith Ward, God: A Guide for the Perplexed, 154-57.  He observes (p. 156), “Revolutionary Marxism tortured and massacred more people in fifty years than the so-called oppressive religions had managed to get through in generations.”  He adds (pp. 156-57), “there is an unbearable tension in Marx between his outrage at the conditions of the industrialised workers, in early nineteenth-century Britain, particularly his longing for freedom for the poorest and most oppressed, and his recommendation of a revolution which would introduce unprecedented violence and terror into the lives of those he most wanted to help.”

[3] cf. Paul D. Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 62, where he says that the people “needed a word of assurance, a promise that there was a future beyond the baffling suffering and shame they had suffered.”

[4] cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 3.1:39, where he refers to the assurance of the the Heidelberg Catechism (ques. 26) that “whatever evil he sends upon me in this troubled life he will turn to my good, for he is able to do it, being almighty God, and is determined to do it, being a faithful Father” (cf Book of Confessions 4.026).  Cf. also Christopher R. Seitz, “The Book of Isaiah 40-66,” New Interpreters Bible VI:381; and Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 64.

[5] Cf. also Fred B. Craddock, Luke, 49, where he observes that in Luke and Acts there is repeated emphasis on “the Holy Spirit as the hallmark of Christianity.”

[6]Cf. J. Nolland, Luke 1:1-9:20, 165: Jesus’ baptism is “his anointing by the Spirit to the ministry of Isa 61:1–2”; cf. also F. Bovon, Luke 1:1-9:50, 130; R. Alan Culpepper, “The Gospel of Luke,” New Interpreters Bible IX:91; and  Craddock, Luke, 51-52.

Promises, Promises

Promises, Promises

Lk. 21:25-36[1]

It seems like Advent is the “overlooked” season in our calendar.  The days leading up to Christmas are simply the time to load up on stuff and run around doing twice as much as usual.  But for many of us, Advent is a special time of year.  It means different things to different people.  For some of us, we get into the spirit of giving, whether it may be for someone less fortunate, or for family members and friends, or for all of the above.  For some  of us we get into the whole spirit of festivity, putting up the tree, decorating the house, and having people over to celebrate the season.  For some of us, we get into the Advent readings and Advent calendar and the special services at church, and we find this time to be refreshing and renewing to our faith.  For some of us, Advent means all of the above!

One of the most important aspects of Advent for me is that it is a time for us to focus on the hope that is in our faith.  We in the Protestant world don’t focus too much on the future aspect of our faith, but it is definitely there.[2]  There is a strong element of promise, of hope, of the future in our faith.  And Advent is a time for us to focus on that.  As our Gospel lesson reminds us, one of the major themes in our faith is the promise that Jesus will return with power and glory some day.[3]  Unfortunately, it seems to me that most of us don’t really know what to do with this aspect of the Christian faith.  We know of the extremists who claim to be able to interpret all the signs and to pin down the exact date when future events will happen.

There are others who take the promises of the future in the Bible and use a “name it, claim it” approach.  It’s almost as if the promises in the Bible are a kind of currency you can plug into a cosmic slot machine and pull the lever to get whatever you happen to want to come true.  I think we are just as keen to distance ourselves from those people as we are from the ones who think they can lay out a precise timeline of future events.  But in the process we may be in danger of losing the element of promise and of hope that figures so prominently in our faith.

I think it’s important to go back to the beginning, so to speak, and try to find out what the promises were intended for in the first place.  It seems to me that the point of the promises of a future where Jesus returns is not to give us a basis for predicting what’s to come, or to give us a way to claim for ourselves whatever our hearts desire.  And I certainly don’t believe those promises are intended to create fear in us, or make us worry whether we’ll be “left behind.”  They offer us reassurance that the God who began this creation as something “very good” will not rest until it has been restored to being “very good” again.[4]    And they promise us that God has begun to do that very thing through Jesus Christ.[5]  Yes, there is talk about cataclysmic signs and being caught unaware, but it seems to me that as long as we trust that “we belong—body and soul, in life and in death—to our faithful Savior, Jesus Christ,” then we have nothing to fear from whatever that day will look like.[6]

In short, I think one of the most important purpose of the promises of a future in the Bible is to show us the character of God.  They remind us that we believe in a God who will “never fail us nor forsake us.”  We may feel like God has let us down, or we may feel abandoned by God, but the promise of the Scriptures is that God isn’t that kind of God.  God sticks around, no matter what.  We may not be aware of it, but God’s always there, loving us, guiding our way, seeking our best.  When we look at the promises this way—as demonstrations of God’s character—I think it gives us a wholly different way to approach them.  Instead of trying to read them like tea leaves to predict the future, instead of taking them as currency we can cash in on, we can use the promises of the Scriptures to help us live our daily lives.

That all sounds really good, but the fact is that when you look around you, many of the people you see are suffering.  Someone has a loved one who is near death.  Someone else has lost a job.  Someone else has gone through a divorce.  Someone else is no longer able to live in their own home.  And so on, and so on.  People are suffering.  Some of us are suffering.  I think when were in that position, we want to know what the promises of the Scriptures have to say to us, right here and right now.  It’s one thing to say that God promises to return to this world in the future to set all things right again, as they were at the very beginning.  But what difference does that make when we’re suffering right here and right now? 

I think this is where taking the promises as pointers to God’s character may be most important.  They show us a God who always cares for us, and so we can cast all our cares on him. They show us a God who never forsakes us, though everyone else we know may turn their backs on us.  They show us a God who loves us with a love that will never let us go.  I think that’s something to hang onto when the suffering of this world makes you question whether you can even make it through another day. 

I believe the promises of the Scriptures regarding Gods’ future are treasures for us hold on to firmly.  As we hear the promises read again this year during Advent, promises we’ve heard read so many times before, I hope we will pay attention to what they tell us about the God we believe in.[7]  I pray that they will rekindle in us a spirit of hope about what God is doing in this world and our place in it.  I hope they will give us courage to entrust our lives—all of our lives—into the loving hands of our faithful God, who always keeps his promises.[8]

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[1] © 2012 Alan Brehm.  A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 12/2/12.

[2] Cf. R. Alan Culpepper, “The Gospel of Luke,” New Interpreters Bible IX:410

[3] Cf. Culpepper, “Gospel of Luke,” NIB IX:410.  He points out that there is a whole category of “Son of Man” sayings in the Gospels that deal with this, no to mention the emphasis found in the rest of the NT.

[4] John C. Morris, “Anticipation,” The Christian Century  (Nov. 22, 2000):1214: he says it is the promise of “a future of justice, freedom, reconciliation and wholeness.”

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

[6] Cf. The Heidelberg Catechism, question 1, The Book of Confessions 4.001.  Cf. also Culpepper, “Gospel of Luke,” NIB IX: 411, where he says, “the end of time or the end of life holds no terror for those who know God’s love because they know the one who determines the reality that lies beyond what we can know here and now.”

[7] Jürgen Moltmann, Theology of Hope, 20: “Hope is nothing else than the expectation of those things which faith has believed to have been truly promised by God” (quoting John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.2.42 ).

[8] Cf. Moltmann, Theology of Hope, 115: “God is the same God all the way from promise to fulfillment.”