The Waking Dreamer: Humility

Showing posts with label Humility. Show all posts

Thursday, June 11, 2026

Casting Our Cares on God

1 Peter 5:6-7[1]

Life brings us all kinds of unexpected experiences. Some of them are better than we could ever possibly imagine. I can still remember holding my oldest son Derek on the day he was born. He’s pushing 40 these days, and there’ve been a lot of wonderful memories with him and with my other children since then, but that memory stands out. It was fulfilling and awe-inspiring at the same time to hold my firstborn son. Other experiences in our lives are worse than we could ever possibly imagine. I never dreamed I would be divorced on that day when I was holding my son. It just wasn’t something I could have even wrapped my head around. I can’t say that I was ever a perfect husband, but I gave my all and my best to my marriage. Unfortunately, the sad truth is that these things just happen to us sometimes.

Of course, there have been a lot of experiences that fall somewhere in between “the best day of my life” and the “worst day of my life.” Many of them have been good and wonderful. Others have been stressful, hurtful, discouraging, and even frightening. Through it all, like many of you, my testimony is that God has always been faithful. Always! And through it all, I’ve continually tried to follow the instruction of our Scripture reading for today from 1 Peter to “Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you” (1 Pet 5:7, NLT). Those of us who first learned this Scripture verse decades ago will remember it in the older Bible translations: “casting all your cares on him, for he cares for you.” However you translate it, it’s an important part of the life of faith that Peter was trying to teach to the believers of his day. We learn to trust God precisely by entrusting to him the cares and worries of our lives.

In those older translations, it may be easier to see that enacting our faith by entrusting all our cares and worries into God’s care is connected with our overall approach to life. In the preceding verses, Peter makes that connection clear: “all of you, dress yourselves in humility as you relate to one another, for ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.’ So humble yourselves under the mighty power of God, and at the right time he will lift you up in honor” (1 Pet 5:5-6, NLT). And then he goes on to say, “Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.” In the context, Peter is addressing relationships within their community of faith. But he’s talking about principles that apply generally to the life of faith. The faith to entrust all our cares and worries into God’s care is inherently connected to the attitude of humility Peter encourages them to practice. You really can’t have one without the other!

I’m not sure that we always make that connection these days. Part of the problem is that we need a working knowledge of the Bible do so. And there are a lot of those connections in the Psalms. That’s why the Psalms have been viewed by the faithful throughout the ages not only as an important source for learning to pray, but also for learning faith. The passage I think of when I read our lesson from 1 Peter is Psalm 55:22, “Give your burdens to the Lord, and he will take care of you” (NLT). Again, many of us may remember that verse in a more traditional version: “Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you.” What we may not know is that assurance in the Psalm was set in the context of a prayer for deliverance from friends who turned out to be enemies. If you’ve ever experienced that, you may know how deeply unsettling it can be, and how hard it can be to entrust your “burdens” and your “cares” to God when it happens to you!

I’ve mentioned before that John Calvin connected this passage to a different Psalm. He saw it as a reflection of Psalm 38. That Psalm has a similar setting. The Psalmsinger is at wit’s end because he’s being attacked by those who were “foes without cause” and who had repaid him “evil for good” (Ps 38:19-20). His suffering was so great that he could say, “I am utterly spent and crushed” by the turmoil he was undergoing (Ps 38:8). It was so great that even his friends and family kept their distance from him, likely only increasing the burden (Ps. 38:11). It was in that setting that the Psalmsinger reminded himself and us that God sustains us even in the most difficult of times, even in times that are harder than we could ever imagine. He says it this way, “For I hope in You, O Lord; You will answer, O Lord my God” (Ps 38:15, NASB).

One of the challenging twists in this Psalm is that the Psalmsinger sees all of this turmoil and hardship as “discipline” from the Lord! Psalm 38 opens with a plea: “O Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger or discipline me in your wrath” (Ps 38:1). We’re familiar with the idea that God “disciplines those he loves” (Prov 3:12). But associating that with God’s anger and wrath may not only be unfamiliar, it may be troubling to us. I know when I was in college, and I read Jonathan Edwards’ sermon “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,” which is widely considered to be one of the great American sermons of all time, I found the image of God portrayed there to be disturbing to say the least. It was as if God took delight in dangling “sinners” over the “open fires” of “hell.” When we read about God’s anger and God’s wrath toward his people in the Hebrew Bible, it may cause us to wonder how much we can really trust that God’s love for us never fails!

But here’s where it all ties together. In the Hebrew Bible, God’s “anger” and “wrath” are a kind of “last resort” response when God’s people stubbornly refuse to follow God’s ways. Paul says that when anyone refuses to honor God as God, he “hands them over” to the consequences of their choices (Rom 1?). The language the Bible uses for that is “pride.” I don’t think the Bible is talking about a natural human sense of satisfaction we gain from a job well done, or from seeing someone we love succeed. I don’t think it refers to the “pride” we may feel when hold our newborn children and grandchildren. I think “pride” in the Bible refers to when we know what the right thing to do is, and we simply refuse to do it. It refers to a deliberate rejection of God and God’s ways. “Pride” is a deliberate refusal to honor God as God by humbling ourselves enough to not only hear God’s truth but also to repent when we’ve gone astray. Simply put, “Pride” means intentionally rejecting God’s will for our lives.

That brings us back to the connection between humility and faith in our lesson from 1 Peter for today. Peter reminds us that we cannot practice the faith to entrust all the cares and worries of our lives into God’s care without humility! And that’s the lesson that John Calvin draws from this passage. He reminds us that those who are humble are those who recognize that they cannot rely on their own abilities or insights or resources alone, but rather they seek their refuge and help and strength “from God alone,”[2] especially in times of trouble. I’ll be the first one to admit that’s easier said than done! But it seems to me that’s the heart of the challenge that our lesson from Peter presents to us today. It’s a challenge to set aside our natural inclination to believe that we know what’s best, to think that we can fix things ourselves, or to insist that if we could just get everything under our control, it would all work out fine. Rather, learning to cast all our cares on God, as Peter instructs us, requires us to learn the lesson of the Psalms, that we can only entrust our lives into God’s care when we humble ourselves enough to recognize that only God can sustain us through the twist and turns this life can bring our way!

[2] John Calvin, Commentaries on the Catholic Epistles, 148.

Wednesday, November 19, 2025

Pleased With Ourselves?

Luke 18:9-14[1]

As you may recall, I’ve spoken occasionally this year about some of the criticisms of religion. Especially those people who avoid church use to justify that choice. And you may recall that I’ve mentioned that Luke’s Gospel, which is the foundation for the Lectionary readings this year, lends itself to this topic. Like the other Gospel writers, Luke recounts the conflicts Jesus had with the Jewish religious leaders. Because of this, many have concluded that the Jewish leaders of that day were just bad people. Beyond that, some throughout history have used these passages to conclude that all Jewish people are corrupt. But those who do so read into the Gospels something that’s not there. To be sure, Jesus exposed the flaws in the Jewish religious leaders’ traditions and the way they selectively observed them. And they attacked him for it. Some of them even engineered his death. But that was more about a grasping for power that is a human trait than anything inherent to Jewish people.

In fact, if you read the Gospels thoughtfully, you have to recall that they were not only written to record Jesus’ life and teachings, but also to instruct early Christian churches about the practice of their faith. What most Gospel scholars like myself conclude from this is that the attention paid to the flaws of the Jewish religious leaders was, at least in part, meant to serve as a warning and even a rebuke to Christian leaders. It’s likely that Luke, like the other Gospel writers, already saw the same behaviors emerging in early Christian churches. They called attention to Jesus’ conflicts with the Jewish religious leaders of his day in order to correct the missteps of the Christian religious leaders of their day.

I think what we have to acknowledge is that all the criticisms and shortfalls of religion that we’ve been discussing don’t just apply to certain groups of (other) people. That would be much too convenient for all of us. No, the truth of the matter is that all of the flaws in religion we’ve addressed are pitfalls we all can fall into. “Religion,” as some theologians like Karl Barth have often pointed out, is a human endeavor. Faith, on the other hand, can be a spiritual matter, something that God brings about in and through us. But the ways we express our faith are all inherently human. And because we are all flawed people, the pitfalls of religion apply to us all.

I wanted to say all of this as part of my sermon today because it deals with a topic that can potentially be offensive. And I think it’s important from the outset to recognize that all the pitfalls of religion can apply to all of us. None of us are immune. I would say that one of the reasons why some people avoid church is because they have encountered Christians who are really quite pleased with themselves. Often you see it in a kind of “humble bragging” about one’s faith and how thankful a person is for the “perfect” life that God has “blessed” them with. It can come across as a kind of smugly condescending look, a pity-filled smirk that basically communicates to those “outside” the church that it’s just too bad they haven’t made all the right choices (like we have). At times, it can come across as outright arrogance. Like when someone asks you, “if you died tonight, do you know for sure you would go to heaven?” The very question assumes that they do! And it comes across as if they’re assuming the person to whom they ask the question doesn’t!

Our Gospel lesson for today presents us with two men. One man, a Pharisee, would have been a respected member of the community. He was respected because of his devotion to studying and obeying God’s word in all aspects of their lives. Now, in and of itself, that’s what we’re all called to do. But the problem was that this particular man was very satisfied with himself. I like the way Gene Peterson puts it in The Message: Jesus told this parable about some who were “pleased with themselves over their moral performance” (Lk. 18:9). Judging from his prayer, this fellow was very pleased with himself. It’s hard not to think that he was bragging about himself to God![2] But perhaps more importantly, his spiritual arrogance translated into looking down on the other man who had come to pray as inferior. I would say that’s a clue that there’s something wrong with his religion. Again, we’re not talking about a uniquely Jewish problem. It’s a problem we all can have with our religion.

The other man in the Gospel lesson is the exact opposite. In fact, as a tax collector, he would have been despised by more than just the Pharisee. He would have been viewed as a traitor to his people and a thief. That’s because of the way taxes were collected in that day and time. It was an inherently corrupt system. Whoever was in control gave the right to collect taxes to the highest bidder. As long as the tax collector paid off his “bid,” he could keep anything else he could extract from people. And so he would hire a whole team of people who would work under him, each collecting a portion of the taxes. And as long as they paid their quota, each of them could keep whatever they could get. and it’s not hard to imagine why people despised tax collectors in that day.

Two very different men came to the temple to pray. The one had become a respected leader of his community by following the letter of the law. The other had thrown virtue and decency to the wind, and was basically robbing his own people, taking the fast-track toward getting rich. But the point of the parable was that the first man was quite convinced that his life was right and righteous and even pleasing to God. The other man came to the temple not satisfied, or pleased, but broken.

And while the people to whom Jesus told this story would have expected him to say what a good man the Pharisee was and what a rotten scoundrel the tax collector was, he surprised them. In fact, he shocked the living daylights out of them. Speaking about the tax collector, he said, “I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other” (Lk 18:14). That was the exact opposite of what they expected. But he was pointing them to something important: when we are “pleased” with ourselves and our religion, it raises a huge red flag regarding the genuineness of our faith. Biblical faith, the kind of faith that actually makes a difference in our lives, comes from experiencing the healing power of God’s mercy in response to our brokenness. And when we experience God’s mercy that way, our faith will look more like the humility of the tax collector than the smugness of the Pharisee.

Again, it’s too easy for us to walk away from a parable like this and think that those silly Pharisees really missed the point of it all. But the truth is that one man’s self-satisfied arrogance in this story is there to remind us all that we can fall into the same temptation. There was a time when I fell into this temptation. Everything in my life was going just the way I hoped it would. My life was going “according to plan.” A few years later, it all came crashing down, and it was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.

There is room in our faith for genuine satisfaction that comes from looking back over our lives and recognizing how far we’ve come. But for it to be truly genuine, it will always be mixed with generous helpings of humility and gratitude. That’s why religious smugness is so offensive. We might as well be wearing a neon sign that says, “you need God, but I’m doing just fine!” But the truth is that we all need God as much as anybody else. The truth is that at the end of the day none of us are really “pulling ourselves up by our own bootstraps.” We all are who we are only by the grace and mercy of God. And anyone who truly knows that will never be “pleased” with themselves, in the smug way that first man in the parable was. Rather, like the other man we will humbly and gratefully acknowledge that God’s mercy is a gift beyond what we could ever deserve.

[2] In fact, although many English Bibles translate the passage to say that he prayed “standing by himself,” and many others say that he prayed “with himself,” there are several that render it with a significant difference: he “stood and prayed about himself” (Lk 18:11, CEB, NET, NASB).There is actually a textual variant in the Greek New Testament that alters the word order to emphasize the latter interpretation. Cf. Bruce Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, 143. J. A. Fitzmyer, Luke X-XXIV, 1186, differs from the majority view and supports the variant because it has some of the most important early witnesses to the text of the New Testament in support.

Tuesday, September 24, 2024

Humble and Kind

James 3:13-4:10[1]

Most of you know that I’m a music fan. I grew up in the 1960’s listening to “Top 40” music on my transistor radio. As a teenager in the 1970’s, I “graduated” to a “stereo,” complete with huge speakers and arguments with my parents about whether the music was too loud. But besides classic rock, Chuck Mangione had come along and made listening to Jazz “cool” again for my generation, so I delved into that. My musical tastes have grown and expanded over the years, and throughout my journey, the people in my life influenced me. When I went off to college, my roommate was into what was then known as “soul” music. Later in my twenties, I also began exploring classical music, something my grandfather had encouraged. When my kids became teenagers, they were listening to a whole new style of music. I actually liked some of it, so I tried to keep up with the best of what was “new” in music. As you know my son Michael is a performing musician working with the Navy Band, and he’s usually cluing me into new Jazz artists. And these days, I’m taking some of my cues from my grandchildren! Perhaps I’m not alone in that.

If you were listening closely, you may have missed one genre of music. I didn’t listen to Country music early on, but I gradually added it to my musical repertoire over the years. One of my favorite songs is actually a Country song: “Humble and Kind,” by Tim McGraw. I first heard it in 2018 at Maxine Verhoeff’s funeral (true story), and I loved it, and I’ve listened to it regularly ever since. I love the simple truths it conveys, principles that I was taught from earliest childhood. Like “Hold the door, say please, say thank you, Don’t steal, don’t cheat, and don’t lie.” It reflects a way of life that’s simply “good.” “Don’t hold a grudge or a chip” because “Bitterness keeps you from flying” is wisdom we all need to hear. “When you get where you’re goin’, Don’t forget turn back around, Help the next one in line” reminds us that we actually do have a responsibility for how we treat other people.

The refrain of that song, “Always stay humble and kind,” could be a tag line for our scripture reading from James for today. That might seem strange at first. What James advocates is “being humble and wise in everything you do” (Jas 3:13, CEV). There were some in his community of faith who were speaking and acting in ways that were wreaking havoc. We should probably hear everything James says about “wisdom” in this passage with the echo of everything he has said about the power of words to do great damage, as we heard last week.[2] But at the end of the day, I would say that James saw a person’s speech as one of the most obvious displays of their character. And the gist of the “wisdom” James advocates is being “humble and kind.”

It may be challenging for us to make that connection. We associate “wisdom” with the book of Proverbs in the Bible. If you’ve ever read Proverbs, you know that it’s easy to get lost in all the details. But I would say that the “wisdom” that both Proverbs and James promote is about taking faith and making it real in your everyday living. That may not be your first impression after reading the book of Proverbs, because the way it’s organized can be confusing. That’s why I think most of us tend to ignore Proverbs. But if you read it with a note pad by your side and just jot down themes as you come to them, you’ll soon notice a pattern—wisdom is about trusting and honoring God. And there’s a great deal in there about staying humble and kind in the way you treat others.

We really shouldn’t be surprised that James sounds a lot like the book of Proverbs when he insists that we take our faith and make it real in everyday life. In this respect, James also sounds a lot like his brother, his Lord, and his Savior. In fact, I would say that the portion of Scripture the book of James most resembles besides Proverbs is the “Sermon on the Mount.” That’s because Jesus also valued the wisdom taught by the book of Proverbs. As James says in our lesson for today, it’s a kind of wisdom that “leads us to be pure, friendly, gentle, sensible, kind, helpful, genuine, and sincere” (Jas 3:17, CEV). I don’t think it’s an accident that wisdom and humility and kindness are all connected to one another. Practicing kindness takes humility. That doesn’t mean we make ourselves into doormats for other people to walk all over. Rather I think it points to a basic orientation toward life that enables us to treat other people with respect.

Unfortunately, that kind of respect and humility seems to be sorely lacking these days. In these days of dividing lines, bitterness and rage, and public shootings, at the very least we see ourselves as better than those “on the other side.” At the worst, we see “them” as enemies. James warns us about that in our lesson as well: he says, “Whenever people are jealous or selfish, they cause trouble and do all sorts of cruel things” (Jas 3:16, CEV). I like Gene Peterson’s translation: “Whenever you’re trying to look better than others or get the better of others, things fall apart and everyone ends up at the others’ throats” (Jas. 3:16, The Message)! The opposite of living by the wisdom of “always stay humble and kind” is an arrogance leads to things falling apart and has everyone at each other’s throats!

That kind of prideful arrogance is never good for anyone. Later in our lesson for today, James quotes from Proverbs: “God opposes everyone who is proud, but he blesses all who are humble with undeserved grace” (Jas 4:6 CEV). The language of the original verse in Proverbs is even stronger: “The Lord mocks the mockers but is gracious to the humble” (Prov 3:34, NLT). That brings us back to the importance of humility as a foundation for life. Practicing kindness means we have to give something of ourselves to others. We can’t do that if we’re stuck in pride or arrogance. Arrogance is a essentially mindset that withholds basic respect from people we think are “beneath” us. Only through humility can we see others as people whom God loves as much as he loves us. And only when we can see them in that way can we give them the gift of kindness.

“Always stay humble and kind.” I don’t know whether Tim McGraw tries to live that way in real life.[3] But I love the sentiment of the song. I think the life of simple goodness it portrays lines up with our Scripture lesson from James for today. We can only be kind if we’re humble enough to treat people with respect and courtesy. To do that, we have to recognize that we fall short just as much as anyone else. We have to let go of the need to “win,” whether that means being right or getting our own way or seeing ourselves as better than others. Only when we practice this kind of humility can we respect other people enough to give them the kindness that has defined godly wisdom from the very beginning.

[2] Cf. Robert W. Wall, Community of the Wise, 186: “James’s description of false wisdom continues in accordance with the moral calculus that bad ideas are embodied in antisocial actions: garbage in, garbage out. If the words of an unwise teacher, who lacks understanding of the word of God, are fueled and formed by ‘jealousy and rivalry,’ then ‘chaos and every vile practice’ will surely result among those who follow his [sic] lead.” By contrast (ibid., 190), “Words that are ‘full of mercy’ are consistent with the merciful God; they are words of a tamed tongue which have the power to edify and guide a congregation to wholeness.”

[3] The author of the lyrics, Lori McKenna, who won a Grammy Award in 2017 for Best Country Song for “Humble and Kind,” recounts that she wrote it for her children as a way of reminding them of all the things she and her husband wanted them to remember. See the interview with her by Dave Paulson in The Nashville Tennessean, “Story Behind the Song: Tim McGraw’s ‘Humble and Kind’”, Jan 25, 2024, accessed at https://www.tennessean.com/story/entertainment/music/story-behind-the-song/2021/01/25/story-behind-song-tim-mcgraws-humble-and-kind/4228236001/ .

Wednesday, February 21, 2024

(Re)Turning

Psalm 25; Mark 1:15[1]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tuesday, January 16, 2024

Confirmed

John 1:29-49[1]

These days the question of whom you believe can be a controversial one. People line up behind certain news outlets, for example, and draw a line in the sand to separate themselves from those “on the other side.” There are a lot of reasons offered up for why we as a people have become so “polarized” around this question. Some say it’s the influence of social media. And it’s true to some extent that we may be too quick to believe something we read on Facebook or someone we hear on YouTube without really checking the facts. Some say our problems are the result of fundamental differences among us regarding our attitudes toward education, patriotism, and the very nature of truth itself. Others trace the problem back to different groupings or “tribes” among us going back to the very beginnings of our country.

I’m not sure about all of that. Some of it seems like it’s “above my pay grade.” What I think is that the human family has always had a tendency to believe whatever confirms what they already suspect to be true. The phrase “that sounds about right to me” is one that we use to confirm what we hear. In many ways, that can be just an idiom. But behind that, there may be something more. For example, the spread of rumor and gossip is nothing new. It’s been around as long as there have been groups of people. It’s not a new phenomenon that we’re drawn to those who share our opinions, and we’re suspicious of anyone who dares to voice something “different.” If anything, I would say that the technology behind email and the internet and social media has only made rumor and gossip much more powerful. And it’s made it much harder for us to sort out fact from fiction. After all, the real question isn’t whether something “sounds about right to me.” The real question is whether something is true.

That’s a much harder question to answer. Especially when the truth is inconvenient, or challenges our long-held beliefs, or we simply don’t like it. Some of us use facts to try to answer the question of truth. What’s true is what is backed up by facts, by hard data. That sounds reasonable, but as many of us have learned the hard way, people can “spin” the facts to prove whatever point they want you to believe. Others rely on common sense. They trust what makes sense based on their life experience. Again, that sounds reasonable, but the problem is that our life experience is limited. That’s true for all of us. Nobody can know the lived experience of every member of the human family. Others rely on “gut instinct.” Basically, they go with what “feels right.” Again, that can work sometimes, but we all know that our feelings can lead us astray.

This problem with discerning truth in our daily lives also applies to our faith. When you look at the spectrum of churches out there and the different ways they approach faith, you may wonder why that’s the case. It has to do with how they answer the question of what is true. For many, the basis for truth is an authoritative book, the Bible. You might think that’s obvious for all Christians. But the problem is that the Bible can be difficult to read, and harder to understand. Between the Bible and every truth claim based on a Scripture text is the interpretation of the person reading it. And we’re all flawed and fallible Bible readers. I’m sure we’ve all heard of cult leaders who twisted the Bible to get people to carry out their bidding. But a more common problem is how to sort out all the different ways people can “spin” the Bible.

This issue with interpreting the Bible has been around from the beginning. That’s why many Christians believe that the basis for the truth of their faith is an authoritative church. Because we are all fallible Bible readers, they believe it takes the guidance of the “right” church and its leaders to know what’s true. Usually, the “right” church is their church, and other churches are judged to be right or wrong based on how they line up with their church’s teachings. But the problem is that every church that has ever been is a human organization, made up of flawed and fallible people. More than that, because every church is made up of fallible people, the more attention, the more power, the more influence someone has in a church organization, the more they are subject to the temptations of their own self-will. As one famous observer noted, “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”[2] He was talking about the church!

In the face of the fallible interpretations of the Bible by fallible church leaders, some Christians believe that the basis for the truth of their faith is an authoritative experience. They claim that in order to truly have faith a person has to have a dramatic spiritual experience, much like that of the Apostle Paul on the Damascus Road. Once again, however, whether or not one’s spiritual experience is “real,” and therefore a sufficient basis for faith, depends on how well it conforms to their experience. Those who insist on a particular spiritual experience tend to make themselves the yardstick by which they measure the faith of everyone else. And if it doesn’t match up closely enough with their experience, then it’s not “true” Christian faith.

If we can’t rely absolutely on an authoritative book, or an authoritative church, or an authoritative experience, some might be tempted to think that there’s no way to know whether our faith is true or not. In fact, I think there are many these days who harbor that thought. But I wouldn’t say we have to just throw up our hands and give up. As with many things in life, I would say that the answer lies in finding balance. We rely on the witness of the Bible as the foundation for our faith, and rightly so. But we also rely on the tradition of interpreting the Bible that has been handed down to us by the Church. And our own spiritual experiences serve to reinforce our personal faith convictions. I think that, at the end of the day, what all of this means is that it’s more honest to say “I believe” with much of our faith rather than “I know.” It’s not a matter of uncertainty, but humility, and I believe there is wisdom in that.

You may be wondering what all of this has to do with the Scripture readings for today. In John’s Gospel, those who met Jesus expressed their faith that he was the “lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world,” the “Messiah … about whom Moses in the Law and also the Prophets wrote,” and the “Son of God.” We might wonder what basis they had for making those claims. I would say it was based on their first-hand experience of Jesus, which they understood in light of the Bible, as they interpreted it through the faith they had been taught. I think the same is true for us today. We can affirm our faith in Jesus based on our spiritual experiences, which we understand in light of the Bible, as we interpret it through what we have been taught by the Church.

That way of putting it may sound rather ordinary compared to the way other people talk about their faith. It lacks the appeal of a dramatic spiritual experience. It lacks the certainty of those who are supremely confident that their understanding of the Bible is undisputable. It lacks the assurance of those who are convinced that their church is the “true” one. But as it has long been observed, it takes at least three legs to make a sturdy stool. Affirming that our faith is based on our spiritual experiences, which we understand in light of the Bible, as we interpret it through what we have been taught by the Church provides us with a solid foundation for faith. It doesn’t give us absolute certainty. We can’t look down our noses at those who believe differently as if we “know” the truth and they don’t. What we can do is humbly affirm our faith as one that is confirmed not only by our own experience, but also by the Bible, and by the teaching of the church. At the end of the day, I think that’s a faith that can withstand the challenges of life. And after all, that’s what faith is about.

[2] Lord John Dahlberg-Acton, Letter to Bishop Mandell Creighton, April 5, 1887.

Tuesday, September 12, 2023

Take the First Step

Matthew 18:10-20[1]

As is too often the case with men, my most difficult relationship was with my father, Harold Brehm, who passed away in May. For me, it seemed that no matter how hard I tried to do my best, it was never good enough. It’s a dilemma I’ve heard from other men and women regarding their relationships with their parents. I haven’t kept it secret that I was never close to my parents. That happens. My case was not simply one of normal “tension” between parents and children. There’s a lot I could say about that, but I choose not to out of respect for them. I will say this, the distance I kept from my father was not without cause. If I told the whole story, I’m quite sure some of you might be shocked. I’ve never spoken of this in a sermon. I refrained from doing so while he was alive out of respect for him. But now that he’s in the presence of Christ, where he’s whole and healed, I feel that I can tell my story.

I realized many years ago that it was up to me to forgive my father. I’m not ashamed to admit the process took decades. It began when I was a young man. I realized that holding on to bitterness toward my father was hurting me and my relationships. But it’s one thing to recognize the need for forgiveness. It’s another thing to actually forgive. I continued to take steps toward that goal over the years as I grew in my understanding of myself, and in my understanding of my father. I’m deeply grateful that the process led to my ability to fully forgive my father about five years ago or so. To be sure, he never apologized or asked for forgiveness. And I never confronted him for what he had done. I didn’t think it would do any good. Nevertheless, I am grateful to God for giving me the ability to let him be who was, flaws and all, and to love him despite what had happened.

It may be hard to see this, but I believe our Gospel lesson is about forgiveness. I think the reason why it may be difficult to see this is because the lesson outlines a procedure for “admonishing” or “rebuking” another person may seem impractical to us. As the basis for the practice of “excommunication” in its various forms, our lesson for today seems to be at odds with what we know of Jesus. These verses have been used to justify everything from excluding people from the Lord’s Supper to completely shunning them. I would say when Christians cut off someone else in the name of Jesus, we’ve missed something. Our lives are meant to be directed toward loving God and loving others.

I think Matthew was aware of this problem. I think we see this in the way Matthew has arranged Jesus’ teaching in this chapter. We have to take Matthew chapter 18 as a whole. When we do, we find that Matthew himself has “couched” this difficult passage about admonishing others in the context of humility, compassion, and forgiveness. We who follow Jesus are called to become “humble like a child” (Mt 18:4). We’re called to practice concern for the “little ones” by taking care that we not cause anyone to “stumble” (Mt 18:6). We’re reminded that God does not look down on any of his “sheep” who may have “gone astray” (Mt 18:10-14). And we’re called to forgive one another not seven times but “seventy-seven times” or as some translations render it, “seventy times seven” (Mt 18:22). Whatever the situation was behind this procedure for admonishing others, it was meant to be carried out with humility, compassion, and forgiveness.

We can see a similar situation with the Apostle Paul, where the question of eating meat was one that caused Gentile converts to “stumble.” In response, Paul actually urged both sides to take the first step: if you’re the one who is offended, he asks, “who are you to judge”? The idea is that rather than holding a grudge or harboring bitterness, we’re to take the first step toward resolving the problem. And if you’re the one who has offended another, he urges us to “never put a stumbling block or hindrance” in the way of another (Rom 14:13). Paul himself insisted that if he did anything to give offense to anyone, he was going to take the first step by avoiding anything that might harm others (1 Cor 8:13). The basic principle here was one of humility, compassion, and forgiveness for others.

Jesus said something similar in the Sermon on the Mount. He said that if we come to worship and remember that we have done something to offend someone, we must first be reconciled before we can rightly worship God (Mt 5:23-24). Think about it: how can we truly worship God while we’re harboring bitterness or a grudge against someone? It just doesn’t work. Jesus may have been following the lead of some of the Old Testament prophets here, like Isaiah or Jeremiah. That we cannot truly worship God without making things right with the people in our lives is a theme that they emphasized. And Jesus also insisted that we take the first step toward making things right.

I think Matthew knew what he was doing when he based the step-by-step process for setting things right on humility, compassion, and forgiveness. I think he had some keen insight into who we are as human beings. Humility enables us to look at ourselves and recognize that my attitude or my actions may be the problem, not the other person. That’s not something that comes easily. Compassion enables us to see things through the perspective of those with whom we may be at odds. It also enables us to care about them as people, and so to care about their wellbeing. Forgiveness enables us to drop any sense that we may feel we have a right to judge or to blame the other person. And when we take the first step to make things right prayerfully, we can hardly do so without a change of heart from one of blame and bitterness to one of humility, compassion and forgiveness.[2]

I’m not going to pretend that the process of healing broken relationships is one that can be undertaken lightly or carried out easily. The deeper the hurt, the more work it’s going to take from us. It took me decades to forgive my father. There were times when I wasn’t sure I was ever going to be able to get there. The key for me was that I continued to pray, and I continued to try to see him through eyes of compassion. It wasn’t easy, and it didn’t happen quickly, but I can honestly say that I’m grateful for all the many “first steps” that God helped me to take over the years. For me, forgiving my father was crucial to my ability to “live and breathe a spirit of forgiveness”[3] toward everyone, which I would say is at the heart of following Jesus.

[2] Ulrich Luz, A Commentary on Matthew 8-20, 458. He reasons that we can hardly “pray” for the punishment of offenders, but rather for their salvation and restoration to the community!

[3] W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison, Matthew 8-18.

Tuesday, May 23, 2023

Humbling

1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:5-7[1]

I have a confession to make. Actually, I think it’s a confession I’ve made to you before: it’s not easy for me to trust God. It’s never been easy for me to trust God. Some of that has to do with my life experiences. But then I would say that it’s not easy for anyone to really trust God. I mean trusting God when your life is going in the completely opposite direction from the path you thought you were headed down. I think to some extent that has to do with a fear that we all share: the fear of being vulnerable. These days, we’re all vulnerable in ways we may never have expected, nor could we even imagine. Being vulnerable is a scary thing, and when we are scared, we don’t have much head space or heart space to trust God. In my experience, the opposite of faith is not doubt, but fear! Fear is the greatest obstacle to trusting God.

One of the challenges with being in a vulnerable place in life is that it can be humbling. I don’t think we’re any more comfortable with being humbled than we are with being vulnerable. We often associate being humbled with humiliation. And for that reason, the humbling experiences of our lives can be painful. I think most of us would rather do just about anything to avoid going through an experience that humbles us. But I would have to say that it has been the most humbling experiences of my life that have led to the most growth in my ability to trust God, and to entrust my life into his care, as our lesson from 1 Peter for today calls us to do.

As you may remember, 1 Peter was addressed to people who were undergoing painful hardships because of their faith. Our lesson for today tells us that they were going through “fiery trials” that made them “partners with Christ in his suffering,” and for no other reason than they “bore the name of Christ” (1 Pet 4:12-14). As I’ve mentioned before, while there was at this time no official ban against practicing the Christian faith in the Roman Empire, the trials believers experienced in the churches Peter was writing to were wide-ranging. They faced the loss of their livelihood, the loss of their families and homes, and at times the loss of their very lives due to the actions of violent mobs.

It was in that setting that Peter called them to practice humble faith. The humility Peter called for not only applied to the way they saw themselves and to the way they approached God, but also to the way they related to one another. Peter quotes the wisdom of Proverbs: “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (1 Pet 5:5, NLT). That humility also applied to their hardships. In the face of their sufferings, he called them to “humble yourselves under the mighty power of God,” and promised that “at the right time he will lift you up in honor” (1 Pet 5:6, NLT). Just exactly what that might mean is hard to say, but I think the point of it was to remind them that God was very much aware of all they were going through. More than that, God was actively involved in helping them get through every hardship.

And so Peter called the believers turn to God in every situation with humble faith: “Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you” (1 Pet 5:7, NLT). In this, Peter was probably also quoting the wisdom of the Psalms. John Calvin suggests that Peter was referring to Ps 38:15: “it is for you, O Lord, that I wait; it is you, O Lord my God, who will answer.”[2] This was the Psalmist’s response to a situation very similar to the one Peter’s audience was going through. He described the many foes who hated him, saying that they “repay me evil for good and oppose me for pursuing good” (Ps 38:20, NLT). I think that’s probably one of the hardest times when we may be called to “give all your worries and cares to God”!

But I think that the language of the psalmist might help us here. When he says that “it is for you, O Lord, that I wait,” he’s using a “loaded” word. Some English Bibles translate this as “it is in you, O Lord that I hope” (NKJV). Some English Bibles translate it as “it is in you, O Lord, that I trust” (CEV). I would say it takes all three to get at the full meaning of what the Psalmist was saying: waiting, hoping, and trusting. Trusting in God, especially in the face of hardships, places us in a situation where we do a lot of waiting and hoping. And it takes all three—waiting, hoping, and trusting—for us to truly “cast our cares” on the God whose love for us never fails.

What enables us to do all that trusting and hoping and waiting is the assurance that God cares for us. I think an image from the Gospel of John can help us here as well. When Jesus spoke of himself as “the Good Shepherd,” he contrasted his willingness to lay down his life for us with one who is like a “hired hand.” He said that the “hired hand” doesn’t care for the sheep because they don’t belong to him, and so he abandons them when danger comes (Jn 10:13). But Jesus Christ is our true shepherd, and he will never abandon us, no matter what we may have to endure in this life! That’s one of the most important demonstrations of God’s care for us!

In my experience, learning to trust God to care for me, come what may, has been the direct result of the humbling experiences in life. With the Psalmist, I have to confess that it was “good for me that I was humbled” (Ps 119:71). I’ve been “humbled” by painful events several times. There was one time in particular that I was humbled by something joyful. It was the first time I took the risk of admitting to a friend the one thing that was most difficult for me to say out loud to anyone. I was afraid to tell him, because he was my best friend at the time, and I worried that he might think less of me. What happened is that he had a new respect for me. That was an important lesson in the connection between humility and trust. When we take the risk of humbling ourselves, we may learn that there are people whom we can trust to share our burdens. More importantly, when we go through experiences that are humbling, we have the chance to really learn that we can trust God. When we realize that we cannot rely on our own strength or wisdom or goodness, we learn to “cast your cares” on God, trusting that “he cares for you” (1 Pet 5:7).

[1] © Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, PhD on 5/21/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] John Calvin, Commentaries on the Catholic Epistles, 148: “But he calls those humble, who being emptied of every confidence in their own power, wisdom, and righteousness, seek every good from God alone.”

Monday, January 02, 2023

Shepherds and Other "Undesirables"

Shepherds and Other “Undesirables”

Luke 2:1-20[1]

In the middle part of the last century, a psychologist named Abraham Maslow proposed a theory of human well-being that came to be known as “Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.” Unlike Sigmund Freud, Maslow wanted to study healthy people to figure out how we can thrive in this world. You may be familiar with the “pyramid.” At the bottom of Maslow’s “hierarchy” were basic needs for food, shelter, and safety. Then came more emotional needs for belonging and esteem. At the top of the pyramid was what Maslow called “self-actualization.” It’s a fancy word for what we know as “being all you can be.” He believed that the goal of our lives was to achieve our full potential.

If you’re like me, you grew up with the message that it was almost a “duty” to fulfill this potential. The words of then President-Elect Kennedy influenced many of us at that time: “For of those to whom much is given, much is required.”[2] He made that statement at the beginning of the 1960’s, which was a decade of great change and turmoil. But it was also a decade of great achievement. The president had announced that we would put a man on the moon by the end of the decade, and we did it. There seemed to be nothing we couldn’t achieve if we decided to try. All of this made the message of reaching one’s full potential a powerful motivation my generation.

Given that context in our culture, I wonder if our Gospel lesson from Luke this morning doesn’t leave us at least a bit confused. I think the story of the Magi coming to King Herod to ask about the one who was born as the “King of the Jews” makes a lot more sense to us. After all, we assume the birth of a king should be announced in palaces and royal courts. But that’s not what happens in Luke’s Gospel. There are no Magi in Luke’s Gospel. There is no announcement to the “powers that be,” although Luke names them in his story of Jesus’ birth. In Luke’s Gospel, the Angel’s announcement, “to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord” (Lk 2:11), is delivered not to Herod the Great, or Augustus Caesar, or even Quirinius, the Roman Governor. It was made to “shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night” (Lk 2:8). Because we’ve heard the story so many times, we might not be able to hear how strange that announcement must have been.

In the first place, we should not mistake that the “angel of the Lord” was indeed announcing the birth of a king. Jesus was to be the “son of David,” and the “Messiah.” Of course, we know he didn’t fulfill that role as “Son of David” and “Messiah” in the way most people expected. He didn’t lead an uprising to throw off the yoke of the Roman oppressors and ascend to the throne of David as the King of the Jews. He did more than that. He gave his life for the whole world, and afterwards God raised him from the dead. But finally, Jesus was exalted to the right hand of the throne of God, where he still reigns as “Lord.”

You’d think the announcement of the birth of the one who would ultimately ascend to the right hand of the throne of God would have been made to all the most powerful leaders throughout the world. But it wasn’t. Not in Luke’s Gospel, anyway. The titles “Savior” and “Lord” were reserved for God in the Hebrew Bible, and in the Mediterranean world they were applied to Caesar. You’d think the announcement of the birth of one who would hold these titles would be made to the most important religious leaders. But it wasn’t. It was made to “shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night.”

Despite our tendency to romanticize the shepherds, in that day they were peasants at the bottom of any “ladder” you could come up with. It would not be inappropriate to compare them with the “sharecroppers” of an earlier time, or the “migrant workers” of our day. They made a living, but only just. You could not say that these were people who had achieved their full potential in life. They were barely getting along by the skin of their teeth. So I would say that most people of that day would have found it incredibly strange that the birth of the “Son of David,” the “Savior” and the “Lord” would be announced to shepherds.

And yet, it’s no accident that this announcement comes to the least of the least. One of the themes in Luke’s Gospel is found in Mary’s “Magnificat”: “He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly” (Lk 1:52). It’s not just a coincidence that Herod “the Great,” Caesar Augustus, and the Roman Governor all show up in the introduction to this story. They were the “key players” on the world stage at that time. But no messenger was sent to them. The “angel of the Lord” made the announcement of Jesus’ birth to lowly shepherds.

Luke tells us that they responded to the message by going to see for themselves. And they found a helpless baby lying in a feed trough in poverty and apparent powerlessness. Again, the contrast between the “powerful” sitting on their thrones and the “lowly” comes to mind. Jesus was not born in a palace, in a place of privilege and comfort. And yet, despite all appearances, Mary’s son lying in the manger is the “Savior,” the “Messiah,” and the “Lord.” It’s telling that the angel said to the shepherds, “to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”

And it was these shepherds, the lowest of the low, the least of the least, who were able to see past appearances and recognize the truth of the angel’s announcement to them. Luke tells us not only that the shepherds “made known what had been told them about this child,” but also that they “returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen” (Lk 2:17, 20). In other words, these peasants who were likely illiterate, who were the least and the last and the left out, had the insight and the faith to believe that this helpless child lying in poverty was indeed the “Savior” and the “Messiah” and the “Lord” sent by God.

There is something more than a little ironic about all of this. But I think there is a point to it: that God’s salvation is not a “reward” for those who have achieved the heights of personal fulfillment. Rather, salvation is for everyone. Part of the irony is, as St. Paul says, the message about Jesus was offensive to those looking for someone to check off all the right religious “boxes” and it was foolish to those who prized learning and power (1 Cor 1:25). But that’s because “God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength” (1 Cor 1:27). That’s why, right from the beginning, the “angel of the Lord” made the announcement of Jesus’ birth to shepherds in the field. One of the themes of the Bible is that you have to be humble enough to recognize your need for a Savior in order to be able to put your faith in him. I would say that for those of us who can get rather caught up in “being all that we can be” it means that we may need to set all that aside in order to open our hearts enough to recognize Jesus as our Savior and Lord.

[1] © 2022 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 12/25/2022 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE. For a video recording of this sermon, check out my Pastor Alan YouTube channel: https://youtu.be/U9yeNlsjXSQ

[2] John F. Kennedy, “Address to a Joint Convention of the General Court of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts,” January 9, 1961. Accessed at https://www.jfklibrary.org/archives/other-resources/john-f-kennedy-speeches/massachusetts-general-court-19610109 on 12/22/2022.

Tuesday, May 17, 2022

Giving Ourselves Away

John 13:31-35[1]

We have a strange relationship with the word “love.” We can love our families, our friends, our children and our grandchildren. But we can also “love” a movie, or a book, or a favorite outfit. We can love God, but we can also love pulled pork, or chocolate, or cherry pie, or sports. I find the many ways we use the word “love” almost comical, to be quite honest with you. At times, it seems like love means everything to us, and at times it seems like love means nothing to us.

In our gospel lesson, Jesus told the Apostles that the defining mark of their life as his disciples was to be their love for one another. Because of our widely varied use of the word, I’m not sure we have a clear idea of what that love really entails. Our definitions of love often fall far short of the kind of love Jesus had in mind. He told them, “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another” (Jn 13:34). When he said that, I believe he had in mind a very specific kind of love. In fact, he demonstrated that love for them earlier when he washed their feet. It was a kind of love that was so different from what they expected that Peter insisted, “You will never wash my feet” (Jn 13:8).

I think we can all appreciate the difficulty Peter must have had with the idea of Jesus washing his feet. In the first place, it’s a very personal thing to have someone wash your feet! But more to the point, in that time and place, washing feet was a task that you normally did for yourself, or one that a slave did for you. It certainly was not something you would expect from your teacher, your mentor, and the one you believed to be the Messiah! That kind of thing went way beyond the bounds of what Jesus’ disciples would have considered an appropriate expression of love.

Even at this, we might still be able to get over the menial nature of washing someone’s feet—or the modern-day equivalent. But so that we can see the true quality of love that Jesus expected us to show one another, we have to remember the situation. He had just washed the feet of 12 men, one of whom was about to betray him. Another of them, Peter, would publicly deny even knowing Jesus. And the rest of them would abandon him and run for their lives when the crucial moment came.

Jesus knew all of this ahead of time, and yet there Jesus was, washing their feet, doing for them all what none of them would even consider doing for each other. In fact, when Peter objected, Jesus said, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me” (Jn 13:8). Peter misunderstood this as well. I think what Jesus was trying to impress on him and on the rest of the disciples is that this quality of humble, self-sacrificing love is what defines God’s very character. It is the quality of love that God shared with Jesus. It is the quality of love that Jesus had shared with his disciples. And it is the quality of love that Jesus commands us all to share with one another.

This self-sacrificing love is what Jesus said would be the defining mark of those who claim to follow him. It’s not just a warm, fuzzy feeling we get when we sing familiar songs together, like “They Will Know We Are Christians By Our Love.” It’s the willingness to humble ourselves to do for one another what we would not normally do. It’s the decision to give ourselves away for the sake of one another. It’s the commitment that our lives are to be lived not just for ourselves, but for the benefit of others.

I can tell you by experience that this kind of love is incredibly difficult to put into practice. It’s a matter of serving others, whether we feel like it or not. It’s a matter of giving ourselves away —and perhaps what we hold dear in this life—for the sake of others. It’s the ultimate “tough love.” The love that Jesus modeled for us is a love that is willing to do whatever it takes to meet the needs of others. It’s a love that leads us to make sacrifices for others, even when it is unconventional, or inconvenient, or even uncomfortable.

This is a day when we’re supposed to be telling graduates to go out and “reach for the stars.” And we all want them to do that. But I believe one of the most important ways we can make a difference in our world is by practicing this kind of love. Our world is divided by race, divided by class, divided by politics, divided by whole outlooks on life. All these divisions contradict what Jesus said should define our lives, that we love one another (Jn 13:35). Because we come from different perspectives and backgrounds, the kind of love Jesus commanded us to show one another is always going to be difficult. It takes all that we have to give. But in a world that feels increasingly lacking in love, it seems to me that giving ourselves away for one another is one of the most important ways we can make a difference in this world.

Tuesday, April 19, 2022

Suffering Servants

Isaiah 53:1-12; John 13:1-35[1]

It’s hard to look at this world and not be overwhelmed with all the suffering you see. Most of us don’t have to look very far, because in some form or another suffering is a part of our lives. What makes that hard for us is our tendency to resist suffering. We think it’s not “supposed” to be that way. We’re “supposed” to be happy and joyful. But life doesn’t work like that. For some of us suffering comes sooner, for others it comes later, but it inevitably comes to us all. We can either accept it as a part of life, or we can beat our heads against a “wall” trying to avoid it. I think a lot of us probably do some of each.

One of my favorite authors has a different view of suffering. He says that our experience of suffering connects us with the human family, because suffering is something that we all have in common.[2] When I think of our Scripture lessons for this evening, I think that our suffering is what makes it possible for us to serve others the way Jesus did. It’s hard to actually serve someone if you aren’t able to relate somehow to their life experience.

Our lesson from the book of the prophet Isaiah is one of the most beloved passages of the Bible. This lesson paints a beautiful picture of what it looks like when someone is willing to answer the call to serve others, even when it means suffering on their behalf. The main theme of Isaiah 53 is that the “Servant of the Lord,” whom we identify as Jesus, took our sins upon himself so that we might be made whole and right with God. I must confess, however, that the part of this passage that comforts me most is the statement, “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows” (Isa. 53:4, RSV). That’s the language of older translations; it’s not found in our pew Bible. I like the older version because it reminds me that Jesus not only bore our sins, but he also knew the grief and sorrow we bear in this life. Jesus knows what it’s like to suffer for the sake of others!

One of the challenges some people have with this thought is that somehow an “angry God” made Jesus suffer in this way to satisfy a need to punish us for our sins. That image of God is a scary one in a world where people so often abuse others. But I don’t think that’s the point of Isaiah 53. The point is that God’s “Servant” is called to suffer on behalf of others because that’s what God does. The God who never quits loving us is a God who suffers for us and for with us.[3] What we see on that cross is God’s love poured out for us all, taking on all the pain and suffering of the world, in order that we might find God right in the middle of it all, using it to create new life. And we see in Jesus a “suffering servant” who is willing to fulfill God’s love for us even when it leads to a humiliating death on a cross.

That brings me to our lesson from John’s Gospel. As Jesus was preparing his closest disciples for his death, he shared a meal with them. And at this meal he did something none of them would even consider doing for each other: he washed their feet! I think what Jesus was trying to impress on them was that this humble, self-sacrificing love is the kind of love that defines God’s very character. It’s the kind of love that Jesus shared with his disciples. And it’s the kind of love that Jesus commanded them to share with one another: “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another” (Jn 13:34).

Jesus showed them what this kind of love looked like in real life by washing their feet. He washed the feet of Judas, who would betray him. He washed the feet of Peter, who would deny even knowing him. He washed the feet of the others, who would abandon him and run for their lives. I think Jesus knew all of this, and yet he still loved every one of them by washing their feet. And he commanded all who call him “Savior” and “Lord” to love others in the same way.

When we understand Jesus’ command to love one another through the lens of his willingness to follow the path of the “suffering servant,” I think it opens up some new ways for us to understand our lives. If we decide to obey this command and love others enough to humble ourselves as Jesus did, we’re going to find that choice uncomfortable at times, like washing people’s feet would be. But there are going to be times when loving others will be painful. Instead of trying to avoid the path of suffering, we can choose to embrace it.

That doesn’t mean that we go out looking for suffering. But when it comes, and it will, we can look for the good that God is doing in our lives, and through us, in the lives of those who are hurting all around us. Like Jesus, we may have to suffer to truly serve the hurting people in our lives.[4] We choose that path because suffering love is the way God loves us. We serve others through what we may have to suffer because that’s the way Jesus served us. And Jesus calls us to follow him on this path as “suffering servants,” loving others even when it’s uncomfortable, serving others even when we suffer for it.

[2] Cf. Henri Nouwen, Turn My Mourning Into Dancing, 5-11. He challenges us to embrace our suffering in the faith that God will redeem it and use it for good rather than seeking to avoid it.

[3] Cf. “The Study Catechism,” 1998, q. 14: “In Jesus Christ God suffers with us, knowing all our sorrows. In raising him from the dead, God gives new hope to the world. Our Lord Jesus Christ, crucified and risen, is himself God's promise that suffering will come to an end, that death shall be no more, and that all things will be made new.”

[4] Nouwen, Turn My Mourning Into Dancing, 11: “In Christ we see God suffering—for us. And calling us to share in God’s suffering love for a hurting world.”

The Waking Dreamer