The Waking Dreamer: Karl Barth

Showing posts with label Karl Barth. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 01, 2026

A Gift for Kindness

Romans 12:1-8[1]

We human beings are complicated creatures. Of course that’s true physically, but that’s not what I’m talking about. We’re “complicated” in that we all have what may be called “character assets” and “character flaws.” In part, that’s due to the wide variety of life experiences we’ve had. Some have been wonderful beyond all imagining. Others may have surpassed our worst nightmares. All of it, both “good” and “not so good” has shaped us into the person we are today. Hopefully we can appreciate the person we are today and the way our experiences have shaped us. If we’re really lucky, we have people in our lives who know something of our life experiences, both the “good” and the “not so good,” and express their appreciation for the person we are today.

To some extent, I think you could say that we are all complicated “by design.” The Bible teaches that we are created “in the image of God” (Gen 1:26). Through the ages there have been different ideas about what that means. I would say that being created “in the image of God” refers to our capacity to relate to others with the kind of love that defines God’s very being. We all have a capacity for goodness. Whether we follow that instinct or not is the question! But if we keep reading the book of Genesis, we find that the story also points to the idea that we are all “fallen” creatures. Some people would say that means we’re all equally capable of the worst evil anyone has ever committed. I think that’s a bit harsh, with all due respect to John Calvin. I would say being “fallen” means that we all fall short of being the best version of ourselves at times.

It’s hard to admit that, even and especially to ourselves. We all fall short. We can talk about it as a point of Bible teaching easily enough. But that’s not what I’m talking about when I say it’s hard to “admit.” I mean really acknowledging that “I” fall short. All the time. And that’s true for all of us. We get so used to thinking that our own inner dialogue is “normal” and “true” that we have a hard time stepping outside the stories we tell ourselves. And that can make it hard for us to take a good look at how we’re actually treating people. When we do, we likely find that there’s room for improvement. At least that’s what I find when I’m able to get free enough from my own “self” to see myself and what I’m doing more clearly.

I think this is part of what St. Paul was getting at in our lesson from the book of Romans for today. He tells us that when we grasp the depth of God’s love and the extent of God’s grace, we will respond in humble and joyful worship—with everything we are and all that we do![2] Paul describes what it means to worship God with all of life by saying, “Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think.” (Rom. 12:2). I would say it’s fairly easy to recognize that the way things work in this world is broken somehow. But I think it’s much more difficult to recognize how we may not only be taking part in that brokenness. We also may be positively contributing to the broken way things work in this world! That can take more humility than we can muster up sometimes.

One of the not-so-easy-to-swallow truths of the Bible is that when we have a genuine encounter with God, it will lead us to the humble recognition that we share all the same problems that we see in everyone around us. I think that may be another way to talk about what it means to be “fallen” without making guilt the sole driving force in our religion. It’s the simple but never easy willingness to admit that I can fall into the same behaviors that other people do. And when we humbly recognize that, hopefully we can learn to be more patient, more gracious, more forgiving when the people in our lives fall short of their best selves. Just like we do.

But I think another side of this question has to do with the “gifts” that Paul talks about. He directs this toward the idea that we all have roles to play in the “body of Christ.” He says we’re given “gifts” by the Spirit to build up the church as the “body of Christ.” But I’d like to call attention to the fact that we have all been “gifted” by God in another way. I think this relates to our creation in the “image” of God as much as it relates to what God is doing through our gifts to build up the church. I think we can also speak about being created in the “image” of God as a kind of giftedness that we all share, not only with the family of faith, but also with the whole human family. I think we can say because we’re all created in the “image” of God then we’re all “gifted” in that way. I would venture to say that means there’s goodness in everyone you meet. Yes, sometimes that goodness is buried under layers of shame and fear and anger. Sometimes it may have been all but obliterated. But I would say that we are all “gifted” with God’s “image.” That means that, as well as having specific abilities for helping others, we’re all “gifted” with a certain innate goodness that comes from God.

When you look at people from that perspective, it changes the way you relate to them. When we can recognize and honor the goodness in others as well as the “giftedness” they offer us, we’re recognizing and honoring the fact that we all belong to one another in the “body of Christ” (Rom. 12:5). Again, while St. Paul was primarily talking about the church, I think there’s something to be said for applying to the whole human family this idea that we all belong to one another in the “body of Christ.” As beloved children of the one creator God, there is much to point us to the conclusion that we all belong to one another. When that’s the way we see the people around us, I think it becomes difficult not to be able to see the goodness in them. When we can see that goodness, it’s almost unavoidable that we will treat them with kindness and compassion.

This mindset changes the way we live, and in the process, it can change us. It reminds me again of St. Paul talking about letting “God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think.” I think this is a very practical way in which we can follow that instruction. Changing the way we think leads to a change in the way we act. Paul says that when we let ourselves be transformed into a new person, we’ll be able to discern God’s will for our life. What could be more consistent with the will of God than relating to everyone we meet in a way that expresses a “gift for kindness.” When we look at everyone we encounter as a beloved sister or brother, and recognize that all the goodness God has instilled in us is also present in them, we’re much more likely to find the “gift for kindness,” both in them and in ourselves.

[2] I like the way Gene Peterson translates Romans 12:1 in The Message translation: “So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering.” On this idea that all of life is to be our “worship” of God, cf. Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, 431, where he says, “The problem of ‘ethics’ is … identical with the problem of ‘dogmatics’: Soli Deo Gloria!”

Tuesday, August 11, 2026

Good All The Time

Matthew 14:22-33; Romans 10:10-13[1]

There’s a tradition in Presbyterian gatherings where the leader says, “God is good!” when it’s time for the group to settle down. The response is supposed to be “All the Time!” Then the leader announces, “All the Time!” and the group responds, “God is good!” On the surface of things, I think it’s a pretty great thing that we start gatherings with a reminder that God loves us so much that he’s good to us all the time. But being a student of language, I think not only about what it says or what the words mean but also how it works. So you probably won’t be surprised that I’m not entirely comfortable with this practice. Because when we say together, “God is good, all the time!” in that setting, the point of it is that it’s time to hush and listen to what the speaker has to say. I’ve mentioned before that instead of settling down and being quiet, if we really meant what we’re saying, we would burst into spontaneous celebration!

One of the reasons why we don’t do that, in my opinion, is we’re not sure we believe “God is good, all the time!” Life can be wonderful at times, like when you’re holding your newborn child or grandchild. But life can be hard and painful at times as well. It’s in those times I think we wonder most whether God really is good. It doesn’t help that the Hebrew Bible is full of statements about how “angry” God is. Especially for those of us who may have grown up with abusive parents. For us, “anger” doesn’t mean that God loves us so much that he’s upset with us when we do things that could hurt us or endanger us, like any good parent would. “Anger” means that God is just looking for an excuse to take his self-hatred out on us by “striking” us in some way. There’s really nothing good about that! Many of us have grown up with a keen sense that somehow, we never lived up to all the expectations of our parents. Most of us carry that burden in some way, and we tend to project it onto God and assume that God is disappointed with us as well. I think we’re not really sure we believe that “God is good, all the time.”

But the Scriptures insist over and over, especially in the Hebrew Bible, that God is indeed good, and that God is good all the time. We have a word for it: we call it “grace.” But “grace” is one of those words we use all the time without actually knowing what it means. In the Bible, “grace” means that God’s love for us never fails. “Grace” means God truly is “good all the time.” And “grace” means that’s true simply because that’s who God is, not because of anything we might do to “deserve” it as a “reward.” The truth of the matter is that we can never have enough faith, we can never be good enough, we can never do enough to deserve God’s love and goodness. God gives them to us anyway because that’s who God is! That’s what “grace” means. And that’s the testimony of Scripture, over and over again. It’s the point of the verse from our Psalm reading for today says God’s unfailing love combines with the fact that he is always true to his nature: “Loyal love and faithfulness meet; deliverance and peace greet each other with a kiss” (Ps 85:10, NET). Those things come together in God’s character and assure us that yes, God really is good all the time!

I think we see something of God’s goodness reflected in the way Jesus interacts with Peter in our Gospel lesson. At the outset, we should note that in Matthew, discipleship is always practiced by people who are called “you of little faith.” That’s what Jesus called the ones who were going to be called “the Apostles” and have statues built in their honor all over the world! We see it in this story when they become afraid in a boat that’s being “battered” by a storm “at the very dead of night” (Mt 14:25, NTE)! One of the ways that Matthew calls attention to the original disciples’ “little faith” is by telling the story of Peter asking to walk on the water. Only Matthew tells this story. It’s been commonly observed that Peter’s “faith” was demonstrated by being willing to get out of the boat in the midst of a storm, and that his “doubt” came when he shifted his attention from Jesus to the wind and the waves and began to sink. The idea is that if he had had enough faith, he would have been able to walk on the water just like Jesus did.

But I’m not so sure about all that. I don’t think getting out of a boat in the middle of a storm is such a good idea. I would say Peter demonstrates his “doubt” by asking to walk to Jesus on the water in the first place. When Jesus called out to them, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid” (Mt 14:27), he was trying to reassure the disciples. But Peter didn’t trust Jesus’ word. Instead, he wanted “proof.” So Peter said, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water” (Mt 14:28)! Peter sounds doubtful! I tend to agree with those who, like John Calvin, think that a response of faith on Peter’s part would have been to take to heart the assurance Jesus gave him and stay in the boat![2] That’s where he was supposed to be. That’s where he was needed. And Peter needed that boat to keep from sinking into the waves during a raging storm! But when Peter plunged out onto the waters and began to sink, Matthew’s Gospel says that Jesus “immediately reached out his hand and caught him” (Mt 14:31). I think one of the lessons we’re meant to come away with is that God shows us his goodness by always “catching” us, even when we’re still waist-deep in the water with the storm raging all around us! God always “catches” us.

Paul makes a similar point in our lesson from Romans. I particularly like the part that says: “‘Anyone who trusts in him will never be disappointed,’” and “The same Lord is the Lord of all and gives many blessings to all who trust in him” (Rom 10:11-12, NCV). I like it even better in Gene Peterson’s The Message translation: “Scripture reassures us, ‘No one who trusts God like this—heart and soul—will ever regret it.’ It’s exactly the same no matter what a person’s … background may be: the same God for all of us, acting the same incredibly generous way to everyone who calls out for help.”

“Incredibly generous.” I think that has to be one of the best phrases to describe God’s grace I’ve ever heard. “Incredibly generous.” I think the heart of Paul’s message in this passage is that God is incredibly generous all the time, and to everyone. And as Paul insists, that’s a thoroughly biblical concept. He’s quoting Scripture passages here. He’s quoting from the Hebrew Bible! God loves us all unconditionally. God offers new life to us all, without any exceptions or exclusions. And God does this simply because that’s who God is.[3] We can ever do enough to deserve or earn God’s love or God’s goodness, but that means we don’t have to do anything to earn it! From the standpoint of biblical faith, from Moses to the the Psalms to the prophets to Jesus to the Apostles, the fundamental message of the Bible is that “God is good, all the time,” simply because that’s who God is!

[2] John Calvin, Commentary on a Harmony of the Evangelists Matthew, Mark, and Luke, vol. 2, 240–241. Cf. also Gene Boring, “Gospel of Matthew” New Interpreters Bible IX:329-30: “Faith is not being able to walk on the water—only God can do that—but daring to believe, in the face of all evidence, that God is with us in the boat, … as it makes its way through the storm, battered by the waves.”

[3] Karl Barth, Epistle to the Romans, 1933, 102-103: “Grace is the generous and free will of God, His will to accept us; its necessity proceeds from Him and from Him only. … the necessity that God shall maintain and show forth His faithfulness, without any provision by us of an occasion for its display—but simply because He is God; … .”

Saturday, July 18, 2026

One Day at a Time

Romans 8:1-11; Matthew 13:1-9[1]

Last week we talked about the Twelve-Step slogan, “Let Go and let God.” Another familiar slogan from the Twelve-Step movement is “One Day at a Time.” It’s one of the tools that people who are trying to live in a healthy way use to deal with “bad” days. Because the truth is whether you’ve been practicing “recovery” for decades or for days, everybody has “bad” days. The idea behind the slogan “One Day at a Time” is that, even on the worst of your “bad” days, you can handle whatever comes your way for one day. To be sure, there are days when it all seems too much to handle. But usually, that’s because we’re viewing our problems from the perspective that they’ll never change. It’ll always be this way. When you think you’re going to have to deal with your problems for the rest of your life, it can become overwhelming. But when you frame it as something you just have to handle today, it usually gets more manageable.

There’s another point to the slogan “One Day at a Time.” It’s related to the fact that we’ll never perfectly fulfill our goals in this lifetime. But if we keep our focus on doing the best we can today, we may wind up pleasantly surprised with how well we do. And after a while of doing our best “One Day at a Time,” we usually realize we’ve made a whole lot more progress than we could have imagined when we first started out. I think those of us who take living the Christian life seriously have a similar experience. There are wonderful times when we know the joy and peace and freedom we have from God through Jesus Christ. And then there are other days when the way we practice the Christian life can best be summed up by the phrase, “three steps forward, two steps back”!

I think we see some of this reflected in our lesson from Paul’s letter to the Romans for today. There, Paul emphasizes that the Holy Spirit poured out on us is the one who makes it possible for us to experience this new life of joy and peace and freedom right now. And when you pay close attention to what Paul says, it sounds very much like he is promising that we already have the fullness of salvation, right now. That’s because everything necessary for us to experience the fullness of joy and peace and freedom in this life has already been done for us by God in Jesus Christ. And it’s also because of what God is doing in our lives through the Spirit right now, to this very day. Paul puts it this way: because the Spirit of the one “who raised Jesus from the dead” lives in us, that means God is also working to give us a new life like the one Jesus has now in the presence of God (Rom 8:10-11, NIRV).

That’s quite a promise. We can have a life like the one Jesus has in the presence of God right now because of what God is doing in our lives through the Spirit. And I would absolutely affirm that’s a true statement: we can have a life like the one Jesus has in the presence of God right now because of what God is doing in our lives through the Spirit! But the other side of the truth is the fact that we never experience the fullness of the life of the risen Lord Christ in this life. We do experience joy and peace and freedom as a gift from God in Jesus Christ through the Holy Spirit. Theologically speaking, we already have everything we need to know this new life now. But practically speaking, our experience (and the teachings of Scripture) remind us that we will not know that new life fully until we are standing face to face with him. In the meantime, we live our Christian lives in the tension between the promise of new life now and the full experience of it when we stand face-to-face with Jesus.[2]

I would say that our Gospel lesson for today also addresses this question, but from a different perspective. The parable is a familiar one. A farmer goes out to plant seeds in a field. In those days, planting seeds was much less precise and involved perhaps even more risk (if that’s possible!). Farmers would just scatter seeds, hoping some of them would take root and grow and bear fruit. Of course, Jesus wasn’t really talking about agriculture in this parable. Among other things, he was trying to warn those who want to follow him that not all the seeds they planted would bear fruit. Faithfulness doesn’t always guarantee results. Sometimes we find ourselves sowing and not reaping.

But there’s a deeper issue here, one that goes beyond the typical observation that the seeds need the right “kind” of soil in which to bear fruit. That kind of thinking leads many Christians to wonder which kind of “soil” they belong to and even to doubt whether they’ve “done enough” to bear fruit in their lives. Or it leads to a too easy assumption that because we’re in church we’re automatically in the “good soil” category. But something that the famous Swiss Reformed Theologian Karl Barth pointed out is that in this parable, the farmer isn’t planting four fields. The farmer is planting seeds in one field.[3] Therefore, he suggests that we must reckon with the truth that we all—including those who are within the Christian community and those who are not—are among “those who hear” the “Word” of the gospel. That means there is always a mixture of “ignoring” the “Word” that fails to put it into action on the one hand, and on the other hand responding to the “Word” with “understanding” that leads to fruitful Christian living.[4] And that mixture of “ignoring” and “responding” to the “Word” is in all of us.[5] We all respond to the gospel in all these ways outlined in the parable in differing measures.

That brings us back to where we started. We all have good days and bad days when it comes to the Christian life. There are times when our experience of can best be summarized as “three steps forward, two steps back.” That brings us back to “One Day at a Time.” I think the slogan applies to our Christian living as much as it does to the recovery movement. We do our best “One Day at a Time” to respond faithfully to the promises of God’s word and the demands that go along with them. We do our best “One Day at a Time” to live fruitful lives as followers of Jesus Christ. That doesn’t mean that we have to wonder every day whether we’re doing it “good enough.” But it also means that a faithful response to Jesus Christ can never be something that we do once and then we sit back and think we’ve done all we have to do.

We live our Christian lives “One day at a time.” Sometimes we respond to the Word of the Lord like the hard path: it just “bounces off.” Sometimes we respond like the rocky soil: initially, we’re enthusiastic, but the Word never really takes root. Sometimes we respond like the thorny ground: we respond to the Gospel but the other things in our lives that distract us choke it out. Sometimes we respond to the Word of the Lord in a way that bears fruit in our lives and in the lives of those around us. This is true for all of us. That doesn’t mean that we get discouraged because we don’t always get it right. We live our Christian lives in hope: the hope that the light that shines in this world through the love of God in Jesus Christ will always be more powerful than the darkness in this world that we all participate in and at times may even contribute to![6] Despite any apparent success or failure, we keep on following Jesus “One Day at a Time,” not because we put our confidence in ourselves, but because we trust in God to fulfill his promises to us. And somehow, someway, God always turns our imperfect faith into fruit that benefits not only the Christian community but also all those with whom we share God’s love.

[2] Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, 105, calls the hope of new life that Paul holds out in Romans as the “impossible possibility of our redemption.” Later in Romans 8:23 Paul talks about “groaning” for the full experience of new life.

[3] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 4.3.1:189. I realize that the “interpretation” of the parable of the Sower in Matthew 13:18-23 encourages the idea that the different “types” of soil represent different “types” of people who hear the Gospel and respond in different ways. I would agree with the view that this so-called “interpretation” reflects the views of the early Church as much as and perhaps even more than they represent the views of Jesus. It is perhaps a very early understanding of Jesus’ parable, but not necessarily the only “authoritative” one. I think Barth’s interpretation, which is based more on the primary parable itself, reflects insights into how the early Church transformed into “Christendom” and how the original parable challenges the sense of entitlement and exceptionalism that arose from that transformation.

[4] Barth summarizes this dilemma well when he says that we all alike “both those who know and those who do not know” (ibid., 192).

[5] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 4.3.1:188-93, where he interprets the parable of the sower through the perspective that it describes the “antithesis” in which we all live out the Christian life: “the light of life shines in the darkness.” That is always true whenever the light of the gospel shines: it shines in darkness. And we are still a part of that darkness.

[6] Cf. Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer, 76, where he says that this hope is the true motivation for Christian leadership. I would say it is also the true motivation for Christian living in general. It is the hope that enables us to “keep pointing to new life even in the face of corruption and death” and that what God has done for us through Jesus Christ, especially in raising him from the dead, is a definitive affirmation that there is “light on the other side of darkness.” I would say it also points us to the hope that this “light” in the world will always and inevitably overcome the “darkness.”

Thursday, July 09, 2026

Letting Go and Letting God

Romans 7:7-25, Matthew 11:16-30[1]

Many of you may know that “Let go and let God” is one of the slogans of the Twelve-Step movement. It’s based on the principle that many have learned to be true: when we try to control circumstances and people we wind up with a life that’s too much for us to handle. We feel overwhelmed, we feel frustrated or anxious or both at the same time, and we may feel defeated. All that comes from the “insanity” of thinking we can get the outcomes we want in life with enough effort. Some of us don’t think that’s “insane” at all; it’s simply stepping up and taking on our responsibilities. But even if we don’t feel the frustration and helplessness of trying to control other people, they most certainly do.

Last week we talked about how making our religion a matter of following rigid rules leads us to a way of life defined by whom we exclude. But the other side is what we do to ourselves when we take that path of religious perfectionism. When we think we can “do it all by ourselves” when it comes to following Jesus and honoring God, it’s a lot like thinking we can control our lives and the people in it. We wind up frustrating ourselves, or those around us, or both. More than that, we tend to express our religion by condemning people. On one side we see people who are more conservative than we are and we think that they’re too strict. On the other side we see people who are more progressive and we think they’re too lax. It seems like what we really want is to be in control of everyone around us.

That’s what’s going on in our Gospel lesson with the strange comment Jesus makes about people being like children who whine, “We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn” (Mt 11:17). John the Baptist lived simply and practiced a rigorous form of discipline. And because he wouldn’t “dance to the tune” they were playing, they wrote him off as demon-possessed (Mt 11:18).[2] On the other hand, Jesus came and lived life and laughed and welcomed all kinds of people, and, perhaps worst of all, shared meals with so-called “sinners.” Because of that, they wrote him off as a “glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners” (Mt 11:19).

Here’s the problem with making religion about following the rules: we always wind up making ourselves the measure of all things spiritual. Like the crowds responding to John and Jesus, we condemn those who are too conservative in our eyes, and then we turn around and condemn those who are too liberal. But the hard truth is that making yourself the measure of all things spiritual boils down to appointing ourselves as the official rule-makers. And in the process, we make religion into something oppressive. For ourselves, and for others. In contrast to all that, Jesus announced that he had come to set people free from their burdens. He came to free people who, no matter how hard they tried, could never live up to the religious rule-makers’ demands. But he also came to free the rule-makers, because what gets hidden beneath the façade of a “holier than thou” attitude is the lingering doubt about whether you can ever fulfill all the rules perfectly.

I think we see some of that burden in St. Paul’s anguish over his inability to keep the law. In our lesson from Romans for today, he talks about the freedom that comes from letting go the effort to control all things spiritual and letting those things rest in God’s hands, which is where they belong. I’ll be the first to say that Paul’s teaching about sin and the law in this chapter is another example of the challenge we face when we try to read Paul’s letters: it gets really confusing really fast! But I think the main point of what he’s trying to say is that any means we can come up with by which we try to attain a “righteousness” of our own making is doomed to fail!

The logic of Paul’s argument here is complicated, and it’s difficult to sort out. But I think it points to the truth that all our efforts to serve God in our own strength are flawed. All of it comes under the heading of “religion”, and religion can only remind us of how far we fall short.[3] It’s no wonder Paul is torn—not just about the fact that his own conscience is guilty, but because he recognizes that anything he could possibly do to gain eternal life by his own effort is ultimately futile. The only way to find freedom is to turn to Jesus Christ. That’s where Paul winds up: “I’ve tried everything and nothing helps. I’m at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn’t that the real question? The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different” (Rom 7:24-25, MSG). I think that sums it up pretty well.

The truth is that we will always struggle with “this life of contradictions” as Gene Peterson puts it in The Message translation. And all too often, we respond to the frustration of trying to practice our religion on our own by simply trying harder. When we do, it all becomes a burden that’s too heavy for any of us to bear. More than that, this approach to religion brings with it other burdens. There’s the fear that what we do may never be good enough. Sometimes we convert our frustration and fear into anger. And we take it out on those we think are a “threat” to us. The final burden is pride. When you put it all together, it’s all too heavy for any of us to bear.

At the end of the day, as Paul recognized, the only path to freedom from these burdens is through God’s love for us in Jesus Christ. That’s where the wisdom of “Let go and let God” comes in. When we try to control our lives, we take on a burden that will crush anyone who tries to carry it. The wisdom of the ages has taught us that the burdens that we carry only trap us in prisons of our own making. Jesus said come to me, lay down your burdens, and I will give you rest. Of course, that’s not something we do once, and call it good. Sometimes, it’s something we have to do every day: come to Jesus, lay down our burdens, and accept the rest he offers. Sometimes we may have do that multiple times a day. When we let go our own efforts to please God by ourselves, to make our lives turn out the way we want, we can lay down the frustration and fear and anger and pride that burden us. When we let God be the one on whom we depend for everything, not only salvation and eternity but also today and tomorrow, we can open our hearts to receive the joy, and love, and life, and rest that Jesus promises.

[2] Douglas Hare, Matthew 123-24.

[3] Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, 252: when we undertake this effort on our own, “we do but display the catastrophe of human impotence in the things of God.”

Wednesday, July 01, 2026

Living in Freedom

Romans 6:12-23; Matthew 10:34-42[1]

Sometimes I think organized religion may be more of a hindrance to people who are looking for God’s love than a help. You may find that strange for someone who’s spent his whole career working in organized religion to say! Nevertheless, after spending almost five decades working in the church, I would say that religious organizations tend to get in the way. We create structures and rules to ensure that everyone winds up at the same place in their spiritual journey. But structures and rules always have to be tweaked. It might be tempting for us to point the finger at those “other” religions out there, for “straining a gnat and swallowing a camel” (Matt 23:24), as Jesus put it. But the reality is that all religions are human attempts to understand ultimate things like God and eternity. And because they’re created by flawed and fallible people like you and me, they all in one way or another tend to get in the way of those who are looking for God in this life.[2]

In the Hebrew Bible, we see an approach to God that essentially defines the spiritual quest in terms of carefully conducted rituals and equally careful observance of rules about staying “pure.” Holiness is defined by eating the right foods and having the “right kind” of relationship the “right kind” of person. That may have been a good place to start, but I would say that many very deeply religious people no longer believe that we please God by observing the right rituals, or eating only the right foods, or having the “right kind” of relationships with the “right kind” of people. And yet, even in our day there are still some who cling to those old rules. As if Jesus endorsed all of that! They may not believe that having a plate of oysters somehow makes us unclean in God’s sight. But there are still many Christians these days who believe that the essence of sin is having the “wrong kind” of relationship with the “wrong kind” of person. Many still believe that marrying a person outside your faith, or person of another race, or anyone who is somehow “tainted” by our human standards makes you “sinful” in God’s sight.

As Jesus pointed out in many ways, the main problem with this approach to religion is that it becomes about what we avoid and whom we exclude. Last week I talked about one aspect of what makes it difficult to read Paul’s letters. I think another challenge we face is that Paul’s letters still reflect some of this kind of thinking. I see it when we read our lesson from Romans for today. While we are clearly indebted to the great Apostle for many of the building blocks of our faith, I think his views on sin may have some problems. In a very real sense, I would say Paul has a very “First-Century Jewish” notion of sin. Of course we don’t want to be “slaves of sin” but “servants of righteousness,” as Paul urges us to be in our lesson for today. But the problem comes when you ask how Paul defines “sin.” It sounds very much like it’s about what we avoid and whom we exclude.

But I would say that while Paul may have hung on to some of those notions, he was a follower of Jesus. And that meant ultimately he was much more concerned with putting faith into practice by treating other people as Jesus did. I think that should give us some sense of focus when we talk about how “the wages of sin is death” (Rom 6:23). I want to ask where you see sin leading to death in our world. Well, I see power-hungry dictators unleashing drones and missiles against innocent people. And the result of that sin is death. I see impoverished people living in ramshackle slums that are swept away completely—men, women, and children—whenever an earthquake or a flood or a hurricane comes through. And the result is death. I see the death that results from the sin of the wealthy hoarding all the resources so that the weakest and poorest of their people literally starve. I realize that Paul was talking about a “spiritual” kind of death. But I think it would do us well to ask ourselves where we see sin leading to death in this world. I would have to say, in all honesty, that I don’t much “death” resulting from failing to exclude the “wrong kind” of person.

I’d have to say that this is one area where some of the most “religious” people of our day still “miss the point.” I would go further and say that whenever we make the essence of our relationship with God a matter of following religious rules, not about the love we have received from God through Jesus Christ, we continue to miss the point. But more importantly, our manmade and rigid religious rules always become obstacles to loving other people. Jesus called them “burdens too heavy to lift” (Mt 23:4) and points the finger at religious perfectionists of all stripes for ignoring their own sins and focusing on the mistakes of others (Mt 7:3-5). It all becomes just an elaborate way of justifying oneself by condemning others. But at the end of the day, even religious perfectionists can’t bear the burdens they create for others. And so, as Jesus said, they condemn themselves when they condemn others! That’s not only because they fail to live up to the expectations they demand of others. It’s also because making our devotion to God about what we avoid and whom we exclude inevitably turns into hostility toward them, whoever “they” may be. You can’t love your neighbor if you really hate them down deep inside!

Jesus had a way of cutting through all this religious hypocrisy. He said that true holiness is about loving God and loving others (Mt 22:37-40). He said that true spirituality is about embracing a child (Mt 18:1-5). True religion is about not only having empathy for the weak and outcast, but also about taking steps to care for them (Mt 25:34-40).[3] It’s about feeding a hungry person, visiting the sick, and being a companion to those who are in prison. For Jesus, a truly spiritual way of living is about being willing to give someone a cup of cold water on a hot day (Mt 10:42). It’s really no more complicated than that. No elaborate systems, no obsessions with keeping tedious rules. At the end of the day, it’s not about what we avoid or whom we exclude, but rather it’s about having a heart that’s willing to give to others the same mercy that we have received.

That doesn’t mean it’s “easy.” In our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus describes this kind of life as “losing your life for my sake” (Mt 10:39). But he also said that was the way to truly “find” your life. I think that’s the lesson we can take away from Paul talking the freedom to live for God. Through the love we encounter in Jesus Christ, we’re set free from all the habits and attitudes that bring “death” not only to ourselves but also to those around us. Through the love from God that we encounter in Jesus Christ, we’re set free from all the habits and attitudes that harm not only others but also ourselves. That’s how I would define “freedom from sin.” It’s the freedom to stop draining the life out of ourselves and others by our actions and attitudes. And in the process, we’re set free to live for God, to live a life of love and mercy, which is the life we were always meant to live.

[2] Cf. Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, 1933, 242: “Religion compels us to the perception that God is not to be found in religion.”

[3] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 126-9, where he says in effect that those who truly follow Christ are to be serving where Christ awaits us, “amid the downtrodden, the sick, and the captives.”

Alive to God

Romans 6:1-11[1]

Reading Paul’s letters in the New Testament can be an exercise in frustration. Perhaps, hearing a sermon on a passage from Paul’s letters can be an exercise in frustration! Of course, many of our favorite “memory verses” come from Paul. Verses like “Nothing in all creation can separate us from God's love for us in Christ Jesus our Lord!” (Rom 8:39, CEV). Or, “the peace of God which transcends human understanding, will keep constant guard over your hearts and minds as they rest in Christ Jesus” (Phil 4:7, Phillips). These are wonderful verses. And we keep them close, because they bring a great deal of comfort and assurance. But when you really try to dig in and understand the meat of Paul’s letters, they can get really confusing really fast. I’m saying that as a person with PhD in New Testament studies and someone who has spent forty plus years trying to dig in to the meat of Paul’s letters! It helps to read a version that is more than a translation, but also attempts to “translate” Paul into language we can understand. I think that’s why Charlie Noren always liked to read from The Message version when he served as liturgist!

One of the reasons why Paul’s letters are so difficult to understand is because he’s trying to explain our salvation in depth. He lays out the groundwork for our salvation in what God has done for us in Jesus Christ. He calls all people, Jewish and Gentile alike, to respond to the Gospel with faith. And he talks in some detail about what it looks like to live the life of faith. But in doing so, he uses language and figures of speech that are not only 2000 years old, but also are steeped in the metaphors and thought world of the Hebrew Bible. I’m probably stating the obvious when I say that language is quite foreign to most of us. Anyone who’s made a serious effort to read the Old Testament might agree with that evaluation.

One of the problems we have understanding Paul’s letters is that through the history of the church, two very different views about how salvation works have emerged. One view insists that there’s nothing we can for our salvation. Our faith and the way it changes how we live is an act of God. Only God in Jesus Christ, working in our lives through his Spirit can create the kind of faith that leads us to live for God and for one another in the way that God wants us to. The other view insists that we have to do everything for our salvation! In order for what God has done for us and in us to truly make a difference in our lives, it has to be met with the willingness to change our attitudes and our actions, to open ourselves to what God wants to do in and through us, and to set aside all that gets in the way of our growth in faith. One view emphasizes that our salvation is the work of God from start to finish. The other view emphasizes that our salvation is something we have to work out in our own lives.

Part of what makes this question so challenging is that both of these views are true. As with many aspects of our faith we have to hold them together in balance. But as is the case so often, holding these two perspectives in tension takes skill and practice. Unfortunately, a lot of people tend to fall off on one side or the other. Some will insist that there’s nothing they can possibly do to save themselves because it’s the work of God. And that’s true, but it doesn’t go far enough by itself. Others will insist that the only way to experience salvation is to put faith into practice. For them, salvation is all about what they do for themselves. Again, there is some truth to that, but downplaying the role of God in this life change strips it of its power.

From my years of ministry and interacting with people, I would say that of the two, the bigger obstacle to faith these days is the notion that I can “do it myself.” We hear it in those who seem to have their sights fixed on the idea that “I have to be good enough to make it to heaven.” For some people this is official church teaching. If you want to “make it to heaven,” you have to check off certain “boxes.” For others, it’s simply the message they’ve always heard. For whatever reason, if you really get down to what people believe about all this, they tend to think that their “salvation” is something they do for themselves. Because of that, they may throw themselves into the obligations they think will enable them to “make it to heaven.”

Of course, we’re all taking something for granted here: that the life of Jesus, a Jewish man who lived in a faraway land so long ago can really make a difference in our lives today. We take it for granted because we’ve experienced throughout our lives. But not everybody does. To some extent, we have to reckon with the fact that what Jesus did for us will always be something that has taken place “outside us.” Besides the fact that it took place long ago and far away, it’s not something we’ve done for ourselves. It will always be something someone else did. When push comes to shove, most of us aren’t comfortable relying on what anyone else does for us. But the mystery of the gospel is that what Jesus did was also “for us” and therefore it is something that can make a change “within us.”[2] These are common phrases in Paul’s letters. In our reading for today he calls attention to the mystery this way, “if we died with Christ, we have faith that we will also live with him” (Rom. 6:8, CEB). And he says, “just as Christ was raised from the dead …, we too can walk in newness of life” (Rom. 6:4, CEB). The mystery of the Gospel is that what God did in and through Jesus can and does make a difference in our lives today. What he did makes it possible for us to be “alive to God” just as Jesus is alive to God.

How do we let this really sink in and take root in our own lives so that we trust the promise of salvation? How do we get past those notions that somehow, some way we all have to “be good enough to make it to heaven?” I think that somehow we need to find a way to believe that changing how we live is a real possibility for us. This is where Paul’s teaching about the Cross and the Resurrection, as challenging as it can be to understand, can help us. The Cross and the Resurrection together represent a divine act that in a manner of speaking “interrupts” the normal “way things work” in this life and opens up for us the real possibility of living a life that is truly “alive to God.” The forgiveness we have through the Cross gives us the freedom to turn from old ways. The Resurrection points us to the new life as something that can be just as real for us today as it is for the risen Lord Jesus Christ.

The two sides of what we call “salvation” always go together. What do we have to do to make it to heaven? “Nothing!” And, “Everything!” They go together. Do people ever really change in this life? We tend to think not, but Paul says the answer is “Yes!” and it’s because of what Jesus did for us. His death on the cross breaks the grip of old ways on our lives. His resurrection opens up the very real possibility of living a whole new life, “just as Christ was raised from the dead.” Our salvation is all about what God does for us.[3] That’s always the foundation for our salvation. But the New Testament teaches that we also have to “work out” our own salvation.[4] For the change of life that the Bible calls “salvation” to be effective, we have to both open ourselves to what God wants to do in our lives, and we have to take steps to “work the program,” so to speak. We have to hold the two in balance.[5] Being set right with God through the forgiveness accomplished by Jesus on the Cross works hand-in-hand with his Resurrection to create the opportunity to live a life that is truly “alive to God.”

[2] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 4.4:18-21, where he discusses the idea that what Jesus does extra nos (“outside us”) is also pro nobis (“for us”) and therefore effective in nobis (“in us”).

[3] Cf. Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, 1933, 207: “Grace is the power of the resurrection … . Grace is the existence begotten of God, the new man created and redeemed by God … .”

[4] Cf. Barth, Romans, 221: “Grace means that God reckons men’s whole existence to be His and claims it for Himself. … Grace seizes visible life and demands that it be presented to righteousness.” Cf. also, ibid., 222: “Grace means: thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven … .”

[5] Cf. Barth, Dogmatics, 4.4:22, where he discusses this balance between what God does for our salvation and what we do: “the omnicausality of God must not be construed as His sole causality. The divine change in whose accomplishment a man becomes a Christian is an event of true intercourse between God and man. If it undoubtedly has its origin in God’s initiative, no less indisputably man is not ignored or passed over in it.” He adds that it is also one’s own “decision and act” (ibid., 23).

Tuesday, July 29, 2025

The Great Mystery

Colossians 1:15-28[1]

One of the blessings and curses of our culture is the way we put everything in a “box.” That was how philosophers and scientists taught us to make sense out of the explosion of knowledge that began a couple of hundred years ago. We might not even be aware of the “categories” we use to understand our world, but of course it is the role of philosophers and scientists to point out these things to us. Some of us are familiar with the mail-order catalogues that used to come from department stores like Sears and Roebuck or J C Penney. I’m not talking about the flimsy little ones we get these days. These were catalogues that included “everything, including the kitchen sink”! They were the “Amazon” of their day. But unlike Amazon, where you can just start typing what you’re looking for into a search box, those massive catalogues had a huge index at the back. That’s how you found what you were looking for. The index was an alphabetical listing of all the items for sale with an indication of the page number where you could find what you wanted. But even the index was so big it was divided into categories.

I think most of us have just become used to looking that the world through the lens of a huge “catalogue.” It just seems “natural” to us to break things down into their parts and sort them into the “right” categories. But there are other cultures that emphasize the connections all things and all beings have with one another. It’s a different way of looking at the world. I would say the world into which Paul wrote the lesson from Colossians for today was more like that than like our world. I think that’s especially the case with the way Paul connects Jesus Christ our Savior and Lord with everything and everyone. Because he is the “is the visible image of the invisible God” (Col 1:15, NLT), he’s connected to all of creation. That includes not only the world and everything and everyone in it, but the entire universe. I know that’s hard for us to wrap our heads around, but Paul can say not only that “through him God created everything” but also that “he holds all creation together” (Col 1:17, NLT). Paul’s view of Jesus Christ goes far beyond the simple teacher from Nazareth who died on a Roman cross outside Jerusalem. He’s that, but he’s also so much more.

What makes the difference here is Jesus’ resurrection from the dead and his ascension to the right hand of God. That pointed the Apostles back to Jesus’ existence as God’s son from all eternity, and therefore his role in the work of creation. But it also convinced them that Jesus is the one who rules over all things in God’s name now, and who one day will bring all God’s plans to fulfillment. This is the “great mystery” that belongs to Jesus the Christ. We see this in our lesson from Colossians as well: the purpose of Jesus’ death and resurrection was for God to “reconcile everything to himself” (Col 1:20, NLT), or as version we read for today puts it, “so that all beings in heaven and on earth would be brought back to God” (Col 1:20, CEV). We might say, “all beings in the whole universe.”[2]

Again, that language might sound strange to us. There are some places in the New Testament where the language of the Gospel, including Paul’s preaching and teaching, seems to limit salvation to only a few. In the Jewish world, salvation was for Jewish people, and only for Jewish people. All the gentiles, or the “heathen,” were condemned for their ignorance. Unfortunately, there have been many theologians up to this day who have promoted that mindset. Tertullian, a Third-Century teacher said it first, “extra ecclesia nulla salus est.” That means “outside the church there is no salvation.” Only those in the church experience salvation, and no one else. That line of thinking was carried on by some of the most influential theologians in the history of our faith, and many believe it to be the “received truth” of the Christian faith to this day.

But there have always been other Christian scholars and teachers who have taken the language of our lesson for today more at face value. While we cannot ignore Jesus’ real humanity, there is much more to who Jesus Christ is. Paul alludes to this in our lesson for today when he tells gentile believers that God’s “wonderful and glorious mystery” is that “Christ lives in you, and he is your hope of sharing in God’s glory” (Col. 1:27, CEV). What we may have a hard time imagining is just how hard it would have been for any Jewish person living in the First Century to say that about any Gentile person. I agree with a number of others who think that the fact that people who would have been assumed to be permanent outsiders responded to the Gospel in faith made the Apostles rethink a lot about their faith, especially whom they included and whom they excluded.

For too many people, the church in our culture has been known primarily for whom we exclude, especially to those who are outside the church. I would say this is another reason why some people avoid church so much these days. But I believe that we can take seriously the hints that in Jesus Christ, God is up to something bigger than perhaps we’ve ever dared to imagine or dream. That “something bigger” is nothing less than fulfilling the promise of the resurrection that says that “In Adam all of us die. In the same way, in Christ all of us will be made alive again” (1 Cor 15:22, NCV). Paul says it a little differently elsewhere: “Adam’s one sin brings condemnation for everyone, but Christ’s one act of righteousness brings a right relationship with God and new life for everyone” (Rom 5:18, NLT). And in our lesson from Colossians for today, we hear the astounding statement that the Gospel ultimately extends to everyone and everything in the whole universe! Paul calls this the “mystery of Christ.”[3]

What difference does this “great mystery” about God’s work through Jesus Christ make for us in our daily lives? Well, for one thing I think it calls us to be open to the fact that our faith contains more than we can put into our “boxes.” God is bigger than we can imagine or conceive. And in our lesson for today, we learn that so is Jesus Christ! Despite what the psalmsinger said, God does not resolve the problem of injustice in our world by “breaking down forever” the villains (Ps 52:5). In Jesus Christ, God resolves the problem of injustice by reconciling all things to God. God undoes the evil of those who arrogantly presume to abuse their power, as the prophet Amos describes. But he does so by “making peace” through Jesus’ death and resurrection. Essentially, he brings us all, oppressed and oppressors alike, back to God. That version of salvation is hard to put into any “box.”

I would say another important lesson for us is that that we, as members of Christ’s “body” on earth, all participate in this “great mystery” right now. And more than that, we all have a role in fulfilling God’s big plan to save the whole creation. If you doubt that, perhaps your Jesus is too small.[4] Part of this great mystery is that every time we act with integrity and kindness, every time we seek to make love for God and love for others the principle of our lives, everything we do in this world to spread just a little of the justice, freedom, and peace of God’s kingdom to someone who needs it, we’re contributing to the fulfillment of God’s big plan. That’s not because we’re anything special, but rather it’s because Jesus Christ who reigns over all things as Lord even now is working in and through us to fulfill God’s big plan to save the whole creation. It may be hard for us to wrap our heads around all this, but I think our Scripture lesson calls us to marvel at the wonder of it all, and to be grateful that we have the chance to participate in something so awe-inspiring!

[2] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 4.3:756 speaks of “the alteration of the whole situation of man and his cosmos as already accomplished in Jesus Christ” as he is in the process of fulfilling God’s determination ” to reconcile everything to himself” (Col. 1:20). Some would dispute this theme in Barth’s Dogmatics. It’s true that he takes a different approach in the earlier volumes. But it seems unavoidable to recognize it in volume 4. It would seem that Barth underwent a transition in his thinking about the extent of salvation during the twenty plus years of writing the Dogmatics.

[3] Jürgen Moltmann in Sun of Righteousness, Arise!: God’s Future for Humanity and the Earth, 140, quotes Christoph Blumhardt, a 19^th century German theologian who believed the impact of God’s redemption extended beyond individual salvation, as saying that this is his “confession of hope”: “That God might give up anything or anyone in the whole world—about that there can be no question, neither today nor in all eternity … The end has to be: Behold, everything is God’s!”

[4] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ: Christology in Messianic Dimensions, 276: “in personal faith a rebirth is experienced which will one day extend to heaven and earth; and the church prefigures and foreshadows the temple of the Holy Spirit which the whole cosmos is destined to become. It is only the cosmic dimension which gives the human, historical experiences of Christ their all-embracing meaning. We can only think of Christ inclusively. Anyone who thinks of Christ exclusively, not for other people but against them, has not understood the Reconciler of the world” (emphasis original). Cf. also ibid., 278: “Christology can only arrive at its completion at all in a cosmic christology. All other christologies fall short and do not provide an adequate content for the experiences of the Easter witnesses with the risen Christ. If Christ is the first-born from the dead, then he cannot be merely ‘the new Adam’ of a new humanity. He must also be understood as the first-born of the whole creation.” He continues to discuss Karl Barth’s “cautious consideration” of this “possibility” in the passage cited above and intentionally “develops” it. As a result, he concludes, ibid., 285: “the church must be seen as the beginning of the reconciled cosmos which has arrived at peace.”

Wednesday, April 30, 2025

Coming to Faith

John 20:19-31[1]

Faith is not easy. It never has been. And it’s certainly not easy in this day and time. In a skeptical world that demands proof of just about everything, faith is something impossible to prove. How do you prove something so inward, so personal, and so mysterious? It can seem nearly impossible to get a firm grip on faith.[2] Living a life of faith can leave you feeling like you’re hanging in mid-air at the end of a rope, and you have no idea what that rope may be attached to![3] After all, how can we ever be certain about things like salvation, the afterlife, and eternal destiny? Those are matters of faith. The plain truth is that faith is not easy. It never has been!

Yet we live in a time when many of us want “easy” answers to all our questions. Especially our questions about faith. I’ve never found that helpful. For me, the questions I’ve had about faith have always been as real as my faith itself. In fact, I would say my questions have played just as significant a role in shaping my faith as anything else. But it’s not easy to face those questions. In fact, it can be positively frightening. It can leave you wondering whether there’s some “line” out there you may cross over in the process of asking your questions, and find yourself lost and alone, without a hope or a prayer left in the world! Whether we want it to be so or not, faith simply is not easy. It never has been!

I believe our Gospel lesson for today addresses this issue. It recounts the familiar story about “Doubting Thomas.” In our lesson, Thomas, one of Jesus’ hand-picked apostles, refused to believe that Jesus was alive after his death on the cross. Refused to believe! No matter what the others told him, he simply would not accept it. Unfortunately, this incident earned him the nickname “Doubting Thomas.” As a matter of fact, when Jesus addressed Thomas, saying, “Do not doubt, but believe” (Jn. 20:27), the word translated “doubt” should probably be rendered as “faithless.” Jesus told him, “Do not be faithless, but believe.” I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that Thomas found that having faith in the resurrection of Jesus wasn’t easy for him, at least at first!

But in fact, if you look at the way Thomas is depicted in John’s Gospel, he was by no means “faithless” in his relationship with Jesus. Quite the opposite. When it became clear that Jesus was determined to go to Jerusalem to die, it was Thomas who said to the others, “let us go, that we may die with him” (Jn. 11:16). That doesn’t sound much like Thomas was “faithless.” And it’s important to note that Thomas was absent the first time Jesus appeared to the apostles. While the others were hiding in fear behind locked doors, Thomas was out there somewhere. We don’t really know where he was or what he was doing, but he wasn’t hiding with the others!

I think it’s entirely appropriate for us to wonder why Thomas didn’t believe the report that Jesus was alive. I think it’s appropriate to wonder whether he may have had a good reason for that! I wonder whether it was his devotion to Jesus that made the pain of his death hard for Thomas to move past. I also wonder whether it was because he’d seen some of the others falter in their faith, especially Peter who had denied knowing Jesus, and he wasn’t prepared to rely on their word alone. What Thomas said was, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe” (Jn 20:25). Thomas, one of Jesus’ hand-picked apostles, refused to believe!

Whatever the reason for Thomas’ “doubts,” a week later Jesus appeared to them again. This time Thomas was there, and Jesus invited him to see for himself that what the others had said was indeed true. When Jesus appeared to them, he let Thomas see the wounds he still bore on his body. He invited Thomas to do just exactly what he said he would need to do to believe: he invited touch Jesus’ wounds. Jesus overcame Thomas’ apparent “faithlessness.” And in response, Thomas made one of the strongest confessions of faith contained in the Bible: he called Jesus “My Lord and my God!” (Jn. 20:28).

It’s a fair question to ask what it takes to convince people in this day and time to put their faith in the message we proclaim: that Jesus died and rose again to bring us all new life. I don’t pretend to be able to answer every question we might ask about how that was even possible. But I think that our questions can help us come to faith. Asking questions can help us make the faith that we have been taught by others into our own faith. Many of us here today know by experience that pursuing our questions can be the path to deeper faith. It’s not an easy journey to take, but coming to faith never has been easy.

I would have to say that the context in which you set out on this journey makes all the difference in where you wind up. Having the support and encouragement of a family and a faith community plays a crucial role. We have role models who have shown us how faith has made a difference in their lives. Our role models didn’t have answers to every question. But if you’re like me, those role models had a faith that was real. By living out their faith in the push and pull of life, they shaped my faith and encouraged me to continue the journey. Our families and our faith community give us all the support we need to continue coming to a faith that is real for us.

Faith is not easy. The truth is that it never has been easy. I would say faith boils down to a choice: choosing to look at life from the point of view that God’s love creates at least the “possibility of goodness” in this world.[4] In some respects, we only find faith by having faith. It’s very much like setting out on a journey without even knowing where you’re going, like Abraham and Sarah did. Today is the day when we celebrate a group of our students who are in a sense “setting out” on their faith journey. I would be shocked if they all didn’t still have questions. Maybe a lot of questions. Because this isn’t the end of the journey for them. It’s another step along the way. Just like them, “coming to faith” is something we’re all continually called to do. As we face challenges and opportunities that we could never have expected, if we are going to respond with a faith that is both true to life and true to who we are, we’ll need the courage to wrestle with our questions honestly. As we do that, as we continue the journey of faith, life will always challenge us to “come to faith” in new ways. Because faith is a journey, it’s not going to be easy. But it’s always worth it.

[2] Cf. John Caputo, On Religion, 15, where he speaks of faith as longing for “a reality beyond reality.”

[3] Cf. Karl Barth, Dogmatics 2.1:159, where he describes faith as feeling as if we are “suspended and hanging without ground under our feet.”

[4] Cf. Keith Ward, God: A Guide for the Perplexed, 209, where he defines faith as “committing ourselves to the continual possibility of goodness.”

Tuesday, March 11, 2025

Truly Free

2 Corinthians 3:7-4:7[1]

I would say that our notions of freedom in this country are defined more by our secular values than they are by our faith. We believe, as the Declaration of Independence so eloquently puts it, that we are all “endowed” by our Creator “with certain unalienable Rights,” including “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” That was a truly revolutionary idea about freedom in that day. It was based, however, not on biblical teaching, but on the best political philosophy of the time. And while I agree with it, I would also point out that in 1776, that statement only applied to men who owned a certain amount of property. It wasn’t really a statement about how all people equally deserve to be free. It was a response to the tyranny of the day, but we’re still trying to work out what that means for all people.

For most of the history of the world, “common people” have lived in fear of “powers that be,” whether secular or spiritual. Kings ruled absolutely. What they said was the law of the land. Whether or not it was true or right didn’t really matter. Tyranny was simply the way things were. People have also lived in fear of spiritual powers they don’t understand and can’t control. In ancient times, the “gods” were no better than the rulers. They could be just as fickle and cruel. I think some of mythology was just projecting the unpredictability of life onto spiritual powers. At least that way people could make sense of their hardships. The “gods” or the “demons” were responsible. In response most people turned to various means from astrology to magic to try to fend off the troubles of life. It was, at best, a feeble attempt.

Many people through the ages have feared death above all else. Without the light that dawned on that first Easter morning, people live in fear of death. They’ve had all kinds of beliefs about death throughout history. Some saw death as a kind of shadowy place, where you were only a “ghost” of your former self. Some saw death as the doorway to hell, where everybody would spend the afterlife being punished for everything you did wrong in this life. Even those who worshipped the one true and living God feared death, because they saw the grave as a place where they would not only be cut off from the joys of life but also cut off from God.

As we’ve been discussing the last few weeks, St. Paul insists that Jesus’ death and resurrection sets us free from all that. As we’ve seen, Paul proclaimed that Jesus’ death on the cross has broken the power of all that threatens the meaningfulness of our lives. That’s because he willingly submitted himself to the “powers” of evil, and when they did their worst to him, they effectively “spent” their power. But Paul goes beyond that. He says that Jesus also broke the power of sin and death when God raised him from the dead. As we heard in our lesson from last week, Paul declared that “Just as everyone dies because [of] Adam, [because of] Christ everyone will be given new life (1 Cor 15:22, NLT).

That first Easter morning revealed a power at work in this world greater than sin or death. Jesus’ resurrection pointed to the power of God’s life-giving Word, the same Word he spoke over the darkness in the beginning, “let there be light!”, creating all life out of the vast nothingness. And in Jesus, God revealed that his Word still has the power to bring life out of death. As we discussed last week, Paul was ultimately pointing us to the hope that we will all live in God’s (re)new(ed) creation after Jesus has returned to “make all things new.” But more than that, St. Paul was convinced that through Jesus’ resurrection, God began the process of making a whole new creation right here and right now in the midst of this world.[2] The life that God effectively “injected” into this world by raising Jesus from the dead is like a transfusion spreading through all things and everyone.

That’s why St. Paul could say in our lesson for this week that we’re all in the process of being transformed to become “more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image” (2 Cor 3:18, NLT). Because we have all seen the light of the “glory of God … in the face of Jesus Christ” and we now “have this light shining in our hearts” (2 Cor 4:6-7), it’s as if God’s new work of creation is already working in our lives. So it is that Paul could say later in 2 Corinthians that “if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Cor 5:17, NIV).[3]

What does all that Paul has to say about Jesus’ death and resurrection mean for us on this day? I may be wrong about this, but we don’t seem to fear sin or death all that much. That’s one reason why the traditional gospel tends to fall on deaf ears in our world. But I would say that sin still brings its own sting. We just have a way of denying it, or avoiding it, or rationalizing it away. I would also say that while we might no longer subscribe to ancient superstitions, death is still a very real enemy. We can see that power at work every time anyone anywhere abuses their power to harm or even kill innocent people. It happens all the time in our world. We just choose not to look. I would say that we still need freedom from sin and death, we just don’t see it that way.

So how then do we in the 21^st Century frame the good news that in Jesus Christ we are truly free? The biblical view of freedom is first and foremost that we are free to live in the way that God intended for us when he created everything very good (Gen 1:31). Paul says it this way in our lesson for today: “For the Lord is the Spirit, and wherever the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. (2 Cor 3:17, NLT). And in his mind, the Spirit of the Lord is at work throughout God’s creation, especially wher there is faith in Jesus Christ. The way we see that freedom is in the Spirit enabling us to become more like Jesus, aligning our lives with God’s purposes and ways.[4] Through Jesus and through the Spirit, God is setting us free to let go our selfish and self-centered efforts at justifying the meaning of our lives, by having the right title, or living in the right neighborhood, or knowing all the right people. That way of trying to find meaning in life still brings its own “sting.”[5]

Jesus sets us free to obey God, following his example of what it means to be fully human by surrendering fully to God’s will (1 Pet 2:16). That means we’re free to give without any thought of what we may get in return, which is the essence of how Jesus lived, and the essence of how Jesus taught those who would follow him to live (Lk 6:35). Because of Jesus, we’re free to serve others, sharing food with the hungry, compassion with the outcasts, and shelter with the refugees (Mt 25:35). You may see where I’m going with this: living in a way that’s truly free means loving without constraints.[6] We’re truly free when we love God with all our hearts, tearing down the shrines to false gods that we’ve all built. And we’re truly free when we love our neighbors as ourselves. All our neighbors. True freedom, from the perspective of our faith, is not found in rights or resources, not in privileges or buying power, not in influence or success or wealth. Regardless of who the powers that provoke our fear may be in our day and time, the promise of the Gospel is that true freedom is found in a life defined by love (Gal 5:13). Love for God and love for others. When our lives are defined by love for God and love for others, then we are truly free.

[1] © Alan Brehm 2025. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 3/2/2025 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Viktor Paul Furnish, Theology and Ethics in Paul, 126: “while the salvation which God effects is first of all an object of hope, God’s power is nevertheless already effective for men [sic] in Christ. … Salvation, then, is not unambiguously ‘future,’ and it is not only a ‘hope.’ Even in the present age the ‘first fruits’ of salvation may be savored and the authenticity of hope confirmed.”

[3] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 4.1:311, where he connects 2 Cor 5:17 with the complete “alteration” of the “human situation,” of “our whole existence,” through Jesus’ death and resurrection. This not only means the reconciliation of those who are “in Christ” with God, it also means “the reconciliation of the world with God”! Barth speaks of this “alteration” throughout the Dogmatics, but especially so in volume four, where he relates it not only to those who are in Christ, but to all humanity. Cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, Ethics of Hope, 55, where he says that in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ “the eschatological turn of the world begins, from transience to non-transience, from the night of the world to the morning of God’s new day and to the new creation of all things” (emphasis original

[4] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Spirit of Life: A Universal Affirmation, 271, where he argues that since in the Bible (not just the New Testament!) “‘Lord’ is the name for the experience of liberation and for free life, then the name is misunderstood and brought into disrepute if it is interpreted in terms of masculine notions of rule.” He also insists that “living freedom and free life can endure only in justice and righteousness. In justice, human freedom ministers to life—the life shared by all living beings. In justice, human life struggles for the freedom of everything that lives, and resists oppression.”

[5] Cf. A. C. Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians: a commentary on the Greek text, 1301: “it is sin, the human turning away from God to become centered upon the self, that has turned death into such deadly poison, so that it hurts and kills like a sting.”

[6] I would suggest that this idea of freedom to love is a central theme in Jürgen Moltmann’s understanding of the Christian life in his works. See for example, The Church in the Power of the Spirit: he begins with the idea that Jesus establishes the freedom of God’s kingdom by sacrificing himself for others (117), by breaking the powers of oppression through the resurrection (98-99), and by assuring us that we are accepted by God, and therefore enabling us to accept others (188-89). On this basis Moltmann understands the freedom of God’s kingdom as that which enables us to serve one another in the effort to bring freedom to others (84, 195, 278, 283-84, 292). He construes the Christian life under the concept of “friendship” which Jesus models and we are called to emulate as those who are “open for others” and who “love in freedom” (121, 316).

The Waking Dreamer