Shining Light Into Darkness

Shining Light into Darkness

Isa. 42:1-9; Matt 3:13-17[1]

  There are places in our world that are so dark that most of us really don’t want to look at them.  Nations where law and order have so broken down that people’s lives are in danger just because they belong to the wrong faith or the wrong political party or the wrong tribe.  Cities where the government is so corrupt that money that should provide basic services for those who need them instead lines the pockets of the rich and powerful.  Neighborhoods where crime is so rampant that even murder becomes just another part of life.  We can see all these dark places in our world just by turning on our TVs and watching the evening news.  Many of us have stopped doing that because it’s too disturbing, because the darkness in our world is too close. 

  Our lesson from Isaiah for today speaks to this.  It addresses one whom God would appoint to bring light into the dark places of the world.  It speaks of “the Servant of the Lord” who would come to right the wrongs in this world, who would bring God’s justice.[2]  As I’ve said many times, I think our idea of justice is very different from the Bible.  In our world, “justice” is something that happens in courtrooms.  Justice is about arbitrating disputes and determining guilt or innocence and handing down punishments for crimes.  But in the Bible, God’s justice means that the hungry are fed, the prisoners are set free, the blind receive their sight, those who are bowed down are lifted up, and the immigrants and the widows and orphans have someone to watch over them.  Simply put—God’s justice is the light that shines into all the dark places of the world and makes it possible for all people to thrive equally. 

  It’s important to notice the way in which the “Servant” in Isaiah establishes this kind of justice.  Our lesson says it this way: “a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench” (Isa. 42:3).  I like the way Gene Peterson renders it in The Message translation: “He won’t brush aside the bruised and the hurt and he won’t disregard the small and insignificant.”  In addition, the “Servant” is to be “a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness” (Isa. 42:6-7).  If you’re thinking that sounds like a very strange kind of justice, I’m not surprised.[3]

  In fact, it would seem that this is the very opposite of the way we think authorities ought to “establish justice” in our world.  They are to “crack down” on criminals, without lifting a finger to do anything about the social conditions that create criminals.  We want them to carry out the “war on drugs,” but I’m not sure that includes coming up with ways to help those who use illegal drugs to find peace of mind.  And when anyone anywhere does violence to us or to our people, we believe that we have a right and obligation to respond to that violence with violence--whether that means waging war or executing violent offenders. 

  I’m afraid, however, that our version of “justice” has only served to spread the darkness in our world.  Our “justice” certainly looks very different from God’s justice.  Our justice is a justice of vengeance and force and hostility.  Rather than creating the conditions that make for life, it only leads to a “culture of death.”[4]  But God’s justice takes place not through vengeance but forgiveness.  God’s justice takes place not through violence but compassion.  God’s justice takes place not through hostility but mercy.  It is a justice that leads to peace.  And in order to achieve God’s justice that rights the wrongs and creates the conditions in which all people can thrive, we have to employ God’s ways instead of ours.[5]

  I think that’s what the story of Jesus’ baptism in Matthew’s gospel is about.  Jesus approaches John to be baptized, and John objects, “I need to be baptized by you” (Mt. 3:14)!  Jesus’ response might seem strange at first glance: “it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness” (Mt. 3:15).  One would think that if anyone had “fulfilled all righteousness,” it was Jesus.  Once again, I think The Message captures the meaning well: “God’s work, putting things right all these centuries, is coming together right now in this baptism.”  I think, in a very real sense, in his baptism Jesus was making a public declaration that he was going to take the side of God’s justice.  He was going to set about promoting God’s work of righting the wrongs and lifting the burdens from the oppressed.  He was going to shine the light of God’s truth into all the dark places of the world.[6]

  And that’s what he did.  And the world responded in the way it always does--we don’t much like having our ways criticized or our misdeeds exposed.  And so they tried to stifle him by labeling him a criminal and executing him.  But those of us who have shared in Jesus’ baptism cannot give our approval to the ways of our world.  By sharing his baptism we have taken on the same calling as his--to shine the light of God’s truth and God’s peace and God’s compassion and God’s mercy--in short, the light of God’s justice--into all the dark places of our world.[7]

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[1] © 2014 Alan Brehm.  A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 1/12/2014 at First Presbyterian Church of Dickinson, TX.

[2] Cf. Paul D. Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 42-43.

[3] cf. Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 45: “Is it possible that the reign of justice can be promoted by ... the express renunciation of force, even by special attention and care to fellow victims who are on the verge of collapse and death?”

[4] John Paul II used this phrase to describe American culture his Homily at Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis, January 27, 1999.  He issued a challenge to us in that homily: “If you want peace, work for justice. If you want justice, defend life. It you want life, embrace the truth–the truth revealed by God.”

[5] Cf. Presbyterian Church (USA), The Study Catechism, question 41, which answers “How did Christ fulfill the office of King?” with the response, “With no sword but the sword of righteousness, and no power but the power of love, Christ defeated sin, evil and death by reigning from the cross.”  Cf. also Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 46.

[6] Cf. Donald Hagner, Matthew 1-13, 60: “Thus John and Jesus perform their respective roles, fulfilling ‘all righteousness’ as the salvific will of God now receives expression in the inauguration of the kingdom and the arrival of a new and crucial stage of salvation-history; cf. also Douglas R. A. Hare, 21-22; W. D. Davies and D. C. Allison, Matthew 1-7, 327.  Contrast Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 4.4:15, where he suggests that the “righteousness” Jesus fulfills is the judgment of God announced by John, which he takes upon himself at the cross.

[7] Cf. Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 46-47: “The community called and upheld by God, by discharging the patient faithful witness assigned to the Servant, becomes the instrument through which the nations are drawn into the covenant relationship marked by God’s reign of justice.”

“Freedom”

Rom. 6:1-11[1]

Reading the Apostle Paul can be a little depressing. It’s easy to miss the good news in Paul’s message and hear only the negative tones. For example, in his letter to the Romans, Paul clearly works on the premise that we are all fallen, enslaved to the power of sin. If we’re not paying attention, we can easily turn Paul’s “good news” into a pretty gloomy take on how bad things are.

I think we really don’t like having anyone tell us that we are fallen. But I would suggest to anyone who has lingering doubts about the fallenness of humanity that they consider the fact that from a very early age we tend to think of “freedom” as being able to do whatever we want. We even have a credit card company that advertises its services with the jingle, “I’m free to do what I want any old time.” We have a skewed version of freedom![2]

Of course, Freedom can be good. Augustine said “Love, and do what you will.”[3] But his premise was that if we truly love God and others, then “what you want” will take on a whole different meaning from the way we usually think of it. In our context “I’m free to do what I want” usually means something very different from what Augustine had in mind. It usually means “I can do whatever pleases me,” or “I can fulfill my own selfish desires without caring what it does to anyone else.” We mistake license for freedom, and in so doing we give up true freedom!

If you have grown children, you have probably witnessed a bit of the comic irony in all of this. Most teenagers living at home will say that what they look forward to most when they “grow up” is “I can’t wait until I’m free to do whatever I want.” The irony is that they will never be more “free” than they are when they say those words. When they “grow up” and get out on there own, they’re free, alright—free to pay all their own expenses, free to work full-time, free to bear the consequences of their choices on their own!

The good news of the Gospel of Jesus the Christ is that one of the main reasons for his death and resurrection was to set us free—truly free—from everything that would bind or oppress or hurt or even destroy us. In one sense, Jesus did this in that he is the only person who has ever fully embodied what it means in human terms to be “free.”[4] But what made him free was the fact that he consistently and continually kept his life in line with God’s will, God’s truth, and God’s way! We might think of a statement like “the Son can do nothing on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing” (John 5:19) as a kind of servitude rather than freedom. But in fact, that kind of submission to God is a central aspect of the truth that makes us free (John 8:32).

But Jesus didn’t just go through all that he did to show us the potential for freedom that we have in our relationship to God. Jesus’ death and resurrection effectively determines what life looks like for all of us. I think that’s what Paul is thinking when he says that “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” (2 Cor. 5:17) I don’t think he’s referring just to the change that happens in an individual person. Rather that person becomes a beacon of new life that God has brought into this dark world through Jesus the Christ. That person becomes a sign that “everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!”

In fact, Paul can say that the transformation we have all undergone because of what Jesus did for us is as if we all had died with him on that cross and we were all raised to new life with him on that first Easter. In our lesson for today he says it this way, “For when we die, we are set free from the power of sin. Since we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him.” (Romans 6:7-8, TEV) Again, the point of that is that it changes everything—not just for one person, or a few! As he says elsewhere, “Everybody dies in Adam; everybody comes alive in Christ.” (1 Cor. 15:22, MSG).

That is where true freedom lies—finding our true humanity in the example of Jesus, experiencing the life that comes from relating to God in such a way that we seek to follow God’s will and God’s way, that we seek to promote God’s justice and not our own.[5] All of life is then set free from the power of everything that threatens to enslave or oppress or distort or destroy our humanity. All of life is then set free to serve one another in love.[6] We have new life in the risen Christ, and that sets us free to live the life that truly is life.

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[1] © 2008 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 6/22/08 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.

[2] John Paul II, in “The Gospel of Life,” 19.3, says that we have “a notion of freedom which exalts the isolated individual in an absolute way, and gives no place to solidarity, to openness to others and service of them.” See J. Michael Miller, C. S. B., The Encyclicals of John Paul II, 808.

[3] Augustine, Homily 7 on the First Epistle of John; accessed at http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/170207.htm.

[4] See Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 3.2:133, 135, 137, where he elaborates on the idea that in Jesus Christ we see what all humankind were intended for in the first place—to fulfill the will of God.

[5] The Study Catechism, 1998, question 16, says that to be human, created in the image of God, means that “God created us to live together in love and freedom.”

[6] John Paul II, “The Gospel of Life,” 19.4, says that our true freedom is fulfilled through “the gift of self and openness to others”; cf. Miller, Encyclicals, 809.

“Futile Ways”

Acts 2:14, 36-41; 1 Peter 1:13-22; Luke 24:13-35[1]

One of the most important lessons that Easter faith has to offer us is that there is more to life than the incessant obsession with being the “best.” The precious and costly death of Jesus on a cruel Roman cross combined with his surprising and powerful resurrection to new life expose the futile ways of our world. The quest to be the brightest, the most attractive, the richest, and the most successful is empty, isolating, and ultimately robs us of our humanity.[2] The crucified and risen Lord Jesus Christ points us to a way of life that is significant, meaningful, and truly fulfilling—the way of giving oneself away for others.[3]

That is the lesson of the 1994 film entitled With Honors.[4] It’s a story about Monty Kessel, a yuppie in the making at Harvard who misplaces the only copy of his senior thesis. When Simon Wilder, a middle-aged homeless man who has been living in the basement of the library finds it, he offers to return it to Monty—but on one condition. Simon promises to give Monty one page of his thesis for every day Monty gives him food and shelter! Reluctantly, Monty agrees. He really has no choice—he’s on a deadline and he’s striving to graduate Harvard “with honors,” the first “feather” in his cap that will surely open the doors to other “achievements.” The problem is that his thesis is nothing more than an elaborate “suck up” to his advisor, a prominent and powerful member of the faculty. Over the course of the school year, something unexpected happens. Simon becomes Monty’s real advisor, forcing Monty to recognize that there is more to life than simply buttering up your professor to get ahead in the game!

You see, after spending his life seeing the world with the Merchant Marines, Simon is dying of asbestos exposure. Understandably he wants to spend his last days with food and shelter. In exchange for a warm bed and the chance to eat every day, Simon does much more than give Monty back his senior thesis. He convinces Monty that no success is worth your soul. As a result, Monty actually changes his thesis, writing a paper that is not only unconventional but one that actually succeeds at impressing the crusty old Harvard professor. Unfortunately, he misses an important deadline and will not be eligible to graduate “with honors.” But Monty learns that there is more to life than achievement, or success, or winning awards, all of which boils down to self-serving.

That’s not a lesson that we tend to learn very easily these days. We still live in a world where the only thing that counts is winning. Getting second place still means losing. “Beauty” is power, and so is money. Our world is completely obsessed with getting ahead by any and every means. It doesn’t matter how many people you have to step on or run over as long as you finish first! And in subtle and not-so-subtle ways, that is the message that is handed down to us from our parents. We’re taught from early childhood onward that we only count if we compete, and we’re only significant if we win.

When the Apostle Peter wrote to the early Christians, he reminded them that they too had inherited a way of life that was empty. Although the emptiness of their life may not have consisted of getting ahead at any cost, it was just as empty. Peter describes it as a life spent on “ignorant desires” (1 Peter 1:14), and later specifically names things like “indecency, lust, drunkenness, orgies, drinking parties, and the disgusting worship of idols” (1 Peter 4:3, TEV). As a matter of fact, that sounds like a pretty typically Jewish way of talking about Gentiles, and may have reflected some bias on Peter’s part. [5] But there is ample evidence that the futile ways of the First Century included a life of wanton immorality, reckless wastefulness, and self-indulgent decadence.

But the “living hope” that Peter preaches includes the promise that the sacrificial death of Jesus the Christ sets us all free from our “futile ways.” The fact that God has lavished on us this “costly grace” makes all the difference in the world in the way we live our lives. We can no more go on living simply for our own selfish pursuits any more than Monty Kessel could ever pass another homeless man without thinking about Simon Wilder!

What’s more, the resurrection of Jesus from that horrible death changes not only us but in a very real sense changes everything. Now everything from our former lives has been emptied of meaning, and the only thing that matters in the “new creation” that is taking its place (2 Corinthians 5:17) is “faith expending itself in love” (Galatians 5:6).[6] And in light of the Easter faith that Jesus is alive, the Apostle Paul reminds us that we can “always keep busy working for the Lord” because we know that “everything [we] do for him is worthwhile” (1 Corinthians 15:58, CEV). No more wasting time with futile ways—now we have the chance to live a life that is truly worthwhile, a life of giving ourselves away for others.[7]

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[1] © 2008 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached on 4/6/08 by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX

[2] See Henri Nouwen, Here and Now, 42, 98.

[3] Cf. Hans Küng, The Christian Challenge, 152-53. He defines this in terms of loving our neighbors as ourselves, where our “neighbor” means “anyone who needs me here and now.” See further 157-70, 274-312 where he characterizes this as being “truly human” and makes some very concrete “suggestions” for what this looks like.

[4] See Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat, review of With Honors, accessed at http://www.spiritualityandpractice.com/films/films.php?id=3855 .

[5] See J. R. Michaels, 1 Peter, 64; contrast Ben Witherington III, Letters and Homilies for Hellenized Christians, vol. 2, 106-107, where he argues that Peter’s comments resemble what Paul has to say about the futility of trying to keep the law apart from Christ.

[6] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, Theology of Hope, 337-38. He says, “Human life must be risked if it would be won. … If, however, we are thus to risk expending ourselves, then we need a horizon of expectation which makes the expending meaningful … . The expectation of the promised future of the kingdom of God which is coming to man and the world to set them right and create life, makes us ready to expend ourselves unrestrainedly and unreservedly in love and in the work of the reconciliation of the world with God and his future. … Faith can expend itself in the pain of love, … because it is upheld by the assurance of hope in the resurrection of the dead.”

[7] Cf. John Paul II, Evangelium Vitae 25.4: “Christ’s blood reveals to [man] that [his] greatness, and therefore [his] vocation, consists in the sincere gift of self.” See J. Michael Miller, ed., The Encyclicals of John Paul II, 815.

“Far As The Curse is Found”

Isaiah 60:1-6; Matthew 2:1-12[1]

My family will attest that there are some definite advantages to living with a theologian. It’s nice to have a Bible/Religion/History answer-man around whenever you need one. But there are also some definite disadvantages. We can tend to be sticklers when celebrating holidays, for example. Anyone who knows me very well knows that I have this thing about the “Wise Men” in the whole Christmas story. I call them “wise guys”! The magi who came to see Jesus were astrologer priests from Babylon, called magicians or diviners in Daniel (cf. Dan. 1:20; 2:27).[2] They studied the movements of the stars because they believed that stars were deities who controlled human destiny.

Over the course of Christian history, these astrologers were turned into “kings” in Christian imagination, probably in no small part due to the influence of today’s lesson from Isaiah. If you trace the history of the “Three Kings” in Christian art, you find an interesting development. In some paintings, the artist renders the “kings” as people who look just like someone who stepped out of medieval Europe. But one of the interesting developments in the image of the magi is that they began to be depicted as men of all three races—representing the peoples of all nations worshipping the newborn Savior.

In a very roundabout way, Christian imagination isn’t far off. The main point of Matthew’s story about the magi seeking Jesus is that even Babylonian astrologers, using the (questionable) faith of their pagan religion, come to worship Jesus as savior.[3] In a very real sense, Matthew depicts what Isaiah predicts: “nations shall come to your light and kings to the brightness of your dawn.” The idea that Matthew presents as fulfilled in Jesus is the same one that Isaiah describes as a hope—that the dawn of God’s redemptive work would encompass all the peoples of the earth.

We may think to ourselves that it’s easy to be hopeful when there are all kinds of wonderful and miraculous signs to reassure faith. Unusual stars and visiting dignitaries from foreign countries and choirs of angels could inspire hope in even the most cynical among us. But the reality is that both Matthew and Isaiah proclaimed the hope of God’s redemptive work bringing new life to all peoples precisely at a time when they didn’t have much to be hopeful about![4] In Isaiah’s day, the Jewish people had returned from the Babylonian exile to find Jerusalem in ruins. In the face of power struggles between rival factions in Judea, those who sought to rebuild the city had to do so with a trowel in one hand and a sword in the other! And above all, the temple had not been rebuilt. The hope of God’s redemptive light shining through the covenant people probably seemed delusional!

But that was precisely the hope that Isaiah called the covenant people to remember. And Isaiah’s hope spoke to a variety of settings—when the Babylonian invasion loomed on the horizon like a threatening storm, when the people were living out the days of their exile in a foreign land, and when the remnant returned to find that the fulfillment of the promise of restoration didn’t even come close to living up to their expectations. In all of those hard times, Isaiah’s hope continued to inspire the people of God to devote their lives to faithfully serving God’s purposes in the world.

We live in a time when it seems like there is much to discourage the hope that the light of God’s new life might overcome the darkness in our world. Millions flock to self-help gurus—some of whom use mega-churches for their platform—while churches everywhere seem unable to prevent decline. What possible good can come of dreamy idealism about God bringing life and joy and peace to this world? It may seem foolish, but then Paul acknowledged that his preaching seemed foolish at times (1 Corinthians 1:18). Yet at other times he insisted that the gospel was the means by which God was transforming all things (Ephesians 3:8-10).[5] And he also insisted that no faithful service to God’s redemptive purpose in the world ultimately goes in vain (1 Corinthians 15:58).

As we celebrate epiphany in the coming weeks, we are celebrating the unveiling of Jesus as the Christ who has come to make all things new. We are celebrating the promise that God is already transforming this world, that the light of new life has already dawned and is dispelling the darkness. As the hymn text puts it, “he comes to make his blessing flow far as the curse is found.” As far as the curse of death and despair and violence is found, Jesus the Christ brings God’s new life and hope and peace.[6] That’s why, even when times are hard and the church seems to be struggling, we too can dedicate our lives in the work of the gospel, flinging wide the prison doors and binding up the broken-hearted.

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[1] © 2008, Alan Brehm. A Sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 1/6/2008 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX.

[2] See Donald Hagner, Matthew 1-13, 26.

[3] Hagner, 27, 31.

[4] See Paul Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 219-21; C. Westermann, Isaiah 40-66, 297, 308.

[5] Compare Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ, 276-77.

[6] See Declaration of Faith, 1977, 2.2; 10:1-2; Study Catechism, 1998, qq. 14, 85; compare similarly, Jürgen Moltmann, The Coming of God, 250-55; see also John Paul II’s encyclicals Redemptoris Mater 7.1 and Redemptoris Missio 9-10. See J. M. Miller, CSB, The Encyclicals of John Paul II, 359, 501-502.

“The Price of Peace”

Isaiah 5:1-7; Psalm 80; Luke 12:49-56[1]

In our study of the Psalms we’ve talked a lot about ideas like justice and righteousness, mercy and peace. It is clear that this is the goal of faith—a world where God’s unfailing love and saving grace define the way we live with each other.

And the primary way in which the Bible speaks of a life that looks like this is with the word shalom, peace. In the Bible, peace is the wholeness that comes from knowing God genuinely and living the life God intended for us. Peace is what happens when God’s reign and God’s justice prevail. It includes all that God is working toward in this world. It is God’s salvation that brings reconciliation with God and humanity.[2]

And so it comes as quite a shock when, contrary to everything the Bible teaches us to expect, we hear Jesus saying he has come not to bring peace but strife!

Part of the problem is with the whole shape of our faith. We take something that essentially subverts our cultural values, our selfish desires for prosperity and happiness, and we turn it into one great mechanism to fulfill all our wishes![3] It’s called “cultural religion.” And the values of that kind of faith are things like conformity, keeping up appearances, material success. It’s the outlook that insists on maintaining the status quo at all costs. Those who are invested in “business as usual” are interested in a different kind of peace than what the Bible has in mind.

Jesus confronted that kind of religiosity head-on![4] He says, somewhat ironically, that he has not come to bring peace, but strife. This ominous declaration stands as a warning to all those who are invested in maintaining the status quo no matter what. It challenges those who care more about keeping up appearances and preserving “business as usual” than promoting God’s kingdom and God’s justice. Jesus brings conflict, strife, crisis to those whose faith is defined by those conventional values.[5] As one commentator put it, Jesus says to those whose faith is locked into the status quo, “I have come to bring crisis because business as usual means injustice and death.”[6]

We’re familiar with the story of Nelson Mandela, the South African black activist who spent years in jail for his protests against Apartheid, the government-sanctioned official state policy of separation between the races. We may not be as familiar with the story of Stephen Biko. He was also a leader in the struggle against racism, but his story didn’t turn out so well. Biko was arrested and tortured to death by South African police. His story was told by another South African, white newspaper editor Donald Woods. Woods exposed the inhumanity and injustice of Apartheid and as a result he was forced into from his homeland. Their story was dramatized in Richard Attenborough’s 1987 film, Cry Freedom.[7] There is peace today in South Africa—at least more peace than there was for Stephen Biko—but that peace came at a high price.

True peace, God’s peace that brings wholeness and life, always comes with a price. The truth behind our Gospel lesson for today is that Jesus does come to bring a different kind of peace, but it is peace that will only come from confronting injustice, especially the injustice that benefits the privileged few. It is a kind of peace that will only come from exposing the untruth that sustains the status quo which perpetuates the brokenness of our world. It is a peace that can only come through the strife and conflict that God’s justice and God’s truth provoke among those who are comfortable with “business as usual.”[8]

As I have said before, from Moses to Amos to Jesus, practicing justice is the defining quality of those who claim to know God! Justice is about living life the way it ought to be lived in relationship with God and others. It’s about the mercy and love and kindness that make for “life abundant.”^[9] As I have said before, the Bible insists time and again that those who love God and will love others, and they will show it by practicing justice and mercy toward the destitute.^[10]

And that is the reply to the plea from Psalm 80: “Why have you broken down the walls of your vineyard?” The immediate answer is that the Lord of Hosts came to his vineyard Israel and “he expected justice, but saw bloodshed” (Isaiah 5:7). But the ultimate answer comes from Jesus—who came to break down the systems of injustice and untruth that rob people and nature of life through oppression and exploitation. But his intention was not to destroy, but to clear the way for God’s kingdom, for God’s justice, for God’s peace that brings life to all creation. As the late pope John Paul II put it, “If you want peace, work for justice. If you want justice, defend life. It you want life, embrace the truth–the truth revealed by God.”^[11]

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[1] A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 8/19/07 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX.

[2] J. Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ, 121: “God’s justice and righteousness brings shalom to both his people and land.”

[3] Cf. J. Moltmann, The Crucified God, 38, this kind of “Christianity” “becomes the religious fulfillment of the prevailing social interests.” Cf. also ibid., 58.

[4] Indeed, one might say with Moltmann, Crucified God, 37, that Jesus’ cross is itself the contradiction of all cultural values.

[5] J. Moltmann, Theology of Hope, 18-19: The promises that the hope inspired by the Gospel makes “must stand in contradiction to the reality which at present can be experienced,” which is a reality of suffering and death. Cf. also ibid., 103, 118, 225-226, 330. For this reason, he says (p. 324) that “Christians must venture an exodus and regard their social roles as a new Babylonian exile” in which they must proclaim the hope of the Gospel and work for the transformation of society. Cf. also Jerry A. Irish, “Moltmann’s Theology of Contradiction,” Theology Today 32 (July, 1975): 21-31.

[6] Teresa Berger, “Disturbing the Peace (Luke 12:49-56)” in The Christian Century, (August 10, 2004):18; accessed at http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle. asp?title=3116 .

[7] Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat, Review of “Cry Freedom”, accessed at http://www.spiritualityandpractice.com/films/films.php?id=6091

[8] Cf. Moltmann, Crucified God, 39, where he speaks of the necessity of “the painful demonstration of truth in the midst of untruth.” Cf. also ibid., 71, 145, 212.

[9] Nicholas Wolferstorff, “Justice as a Condition of Authentic Liturgy,” Theology Today 48 (April, 1991) 16.

[10] Richard Hays, The Moral Vision of the New Testament, 451.

[11] John Paul II, Homily at Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis, January 27, 1999.

“The Way of Peace”

Malachi 3:1-4; Luke 1:68-79[1]

Peace is on everybody’s mind these days—we want peace in the Middle East mainly so our sons and daughters can come home safely! As we approach the holiday season, it’s impossible not to think of this season as a time of “peace on earth, goodwill to men.” Charlie Brown and Hallmark make sure of that. But it’s precisely at this point that the “Hallmark calendar” contradicts the Christian calendar. The Hallmark calendar tells us to start celebrating Christmas before Halloween. On the other hand, the Christian calendar reminds us that Advent is a time of preparation. It tells us that we can have no peace without doing the work that makes peace possible.

We really do live in a “fast food nation.” Everything it seems is determined by how long it takes to drive up to McDonald’s and get a meal. The same is true with the peace of our Lord Jesus Christ. We seem to think it can be achieved by hanging some greenery and some lights and singing some familiar songs and sending out some e-cards! But as our nation is learning, peace doesn’t just materialize out of thin air! It takes work.

John the Baptist’s mission was to prepare a people for the Lord to come and bring peace to them. His “preparation” for them was to call them to repentance. Not just feeling sad or sorry for the fact that they may have said something they would later regret, but rather real, heartfelt, life-changing repentance. The kind of change that is like purifying precious metals.

I think repentance is like trying to change a bad habit. Perhaps none of you has ever had any bad habits to change, but I have. And I can tell you that it rarely happens overnight. In some cases, it takes months and years of concerted effort to change our behaviors. Those other less than perfect people out there among you who have had bad habits to change know what I’m talking about!

Throughout history, those who considered themselves “God’s people” have looked to God to make things right, to establish his peace and justice, and to bless them with salvation. But time and time again, God’s answer has been “the way of peace they do not know” (Is. 59:8).

The “way of peace” is not an easy path. It is a hard road that takes humility, the will to change, and the strength to persevere. For there to be peace in any relationship, both parties have to humble themselves enough to acknowledge their contribution to the conflict. Peace starts by our being willing to look at ourselves—to take a good hard long look at our sins: self-centeredness, self-indulgence, the need to control others, the aggression toward others that really amounts to a kind of violence. But the “way of peace” Goes further than just recognizing our sins; it also takes us to the point of being willing to do something about them. We have to choose, in so far as it is humanly possible, to change and to return to the way of peace. And then, in order to preserve peace, we have to put forth the effort—sometimes time and time again—to maintain peace. The “way of peace” is not an easy road!

According to Zechariah, that was precisely the role John the Baptist would fulfill—he would guide people back to the way of peace. I wonder of that is a message anyone in our culture has any interest in hearing at this festive time of year. In 1999 Pope John Paul II toured this country. In a message he gave in St. Louis, he lamented that ours is a “culture of death.” That may be a little hard for us to swallow. But think for a moment about our “throw away” culture—we throw everything away: energy, water, animals, children, the old, the sick, the mentally ill. If you doubt that we live in a culture of death, take a look at the games our children play and at the films we watch for entertainment. We play death on video games, we watch death for entertainment.

John Paul II did not just issue a lament. He challenged the American people to turn from the culture of death back to the way of peace. He said:

“If you want peace, work for justice. If you want justice, defend life. It you want life, embrace the truth–the truth revealed by God.”[2]

He called us to repent!

As we look toward Christmas, I want to remind us that Advent is a time of preparation. It is a time of self-examination. It is a time to resolve to change. It is a time to return to the “way of peace.”

The way of peace is:

a way of giving, not hoarding

a way of losing your life, not saving it

a way of speaking for those with no voice

a way of resisting the oppressors

a way of renouncing violence

a way of standing against abuse in all its forms, including our abuse of creation and the goods it provides us. What that amounts to is making good on our promise to follow the one we call Christ.[3]

May God grant us the courage to turn from the way of death and return to the way of peace as we prepare to celebrate the birth of the Prince of peace.

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[1] A sermon preached 12/10/06 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX.

[2] John Paul II, Homily at Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis, January 27, 1999.

[3] Jürgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 287-88.