The Waking Dreamer: Presence of God

Showing posts with label Presence of God. Show all posts

Thursday, June 11, 2026

Through Fire and Water

Psalm 66[1]

I find it interesting how popular music changes. What was edgy and “out there” when it first came out becomes more “mainstream” over time. When I was younger, “protest songs” and “rock music” were viewed as “edgy” and “out there.” Definitely so by my parents! But I find it interesting and almost amusing how the “edgy” music of my generation became the “oldies” of my children’s generation, and now some of it is so “tame” it gets played as “elevator music.” One of my favorite musicians from those days is James Taylor. Of course, he’s still around, still making music. But if you look at the progression of his album covers, his image has undergone quite a change. In the beginning, he was something of a defiant representative of the “hippy” counterculture. These days, he looks like any other “Baby Boomer,” and looks like he could be anybody’s grampa! I’m not sure what the James Taylor of the late 1960’s and early 1970’s would have thought of that!

One of my favorite “JT” songs is “Fire and Rain,” which was his first big hit in 1970. It’s a bittersweet song about coming through hardships, including the death of a childhood friend and his problems with addiction, to get to the other side and finding peace and even success. There’s a twinge of regret in the lyrics that I think many of us might be able to resonate with. Life is full of choices that we make, and the longer we live the more we have the chance to reflect on the path that has brought us to where we are. Hopefully, we find peace with that path. But at the same time, we always feel the losses we go through along the way.

Our Psalm reading for today reminded me of “Fire and Rain.” The psalmsinger looks back over the history of Israel’s interactions with God. And, although they had to go through some deeply troubling experiences, including slavery in Egypt, and their oppression at the hands of powerful nations like the Babylonians, they knew God was with them through it all. More than that, they knew God had brought them through it all. In fact, the psalmsinger uses language reminiscent of James Taylor’s song: “we’ve been through fire and water. But you brought us out to freedom” (Ps 66:12, CEB). As a result, the psalmsinger worships God for the “awesome works” he does for us (Ps 66:3-5). More than that, the psalmsinger worships God because his “awesome works” point to the awe-inspiring quality of God’s character. God is the one who “turns the sea into dry land,” so they could cross over from danger into safety. God is the one who reigns over all the nations, and he does so in a way that continues to draw “all the earth” into the song of praise.

This is the God who remains with us to this very day. This is the God who brings us through all that we may have to go through in this life. This God is the one who always hears our prayers, and the one whose “faithful love” for us never fails (Ps 66:20). But as with psalmsinger, it’s not only what God does for us that gives us this assurance, it’s also who God is. A similar passage from the prophet Isaiah expresses it well. It’s Isaiah 43:1-3. The prophet was speaking to the people of Israel while they were still in exile in Babylon. They had not yet come through the “fire and water” into freedom. It may have been all too easy for them to think that God had forgotten about them there (Isa 40:27-31)! But the prophet reminds them that God not only had not forgotten them, but he was with them. Hear how Isaiah says it:

“now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior” (Isa 43:1-3).

The God who created them just the way they were, the God who chose them just the way they were, was the same God who was with them wherever they went, and who would bring them through whatever they might have to endure. Even through the fires of adversity, even through the floodwaters of loss and suffering!

That promise through the prophet Isaiah demonstrates the same character of God the psalmsinger celebrates. He’s the one who reigns over all the nations, over all peoples, with “wisdom, power, and love,” as the song says it. And because that is the God who made us all, and the God who chose us all, that God is the one who will draw all the peoples of the earth to worship him for the awesome and awe-inspiring things he has done and continues to do (cf. Rev 15:3!). I realize this is a different way to talk about God. For centuries, the church presented God more as one who threatens to strike us in his anger than as one who promises to bless us with his love. The church has been more interested in detailing exactly what you have to do to “make it” into heaven than in worshipping God in such a way as to draw all people to join in the celebration. The psalmsinger’s words, “All the earth worships you” (Ps 66:4) are both true now and at the same time not yet fully realized. But the idea behind this Psalm, and many other biblical passages like it, is that who God is and what God does is so awesome and so awe-inspiring that it will inevitably draw “all the earth” into the worship of God.

I still remember the first time I noticed this language about “all the peoples of the earth” coming to worship God in passages like this. There are many of them throughout the Bible. It sounded too good to be true. But it’s there, over and over, in the Psalms, and the Prophets, and even in the New Testament. The idea is not that you can do whatever you want to because God is going to “save” you anyway. The idea is that who God is and what God does is so amazing and so awe-inspiring that it will inevitably draw all the earth to worship him! That’s a big promise, and a big hope!

We might wonder what our role is in all of that. I think the psalmsinger suggests at least one answer to that question: our role is to worship God. Some might think that’s a lame answer. But the psalmsinger won’t hear of it. Worship, from the perspective of the Psalms, is not only a way to remember that God is awesome and awe-inspiring. It’s also a way for us to draw others into the experience of God’s awesome and awe-inspiring work. As one commentator suggests, every time we sing “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?” we are inviting all who hear to not only remember that Jesus died for them, but also to experience the love that God poured out for us all when Jesus died for us.[2]

When we join together for worship, we do so as those who know that we’re God’s beloved children. We worship as those who know that God loves us, always has and always will. We join together for worship as those who know that God made us just as we are, and he made us for a purpose that only we can fulfill in this world. We worship as those who trust the promise that like Jesus, we’re God’s beloved children, and he is pleased with us just the way we are. And we worship as those who know that this God will always be with us, come what may, even through fire and floodwaters. And as we join together in worship, celebrating the awesome and awe-inspiring God who loves us in this way, we create a place here in this sanctuary where all who join us can feel that all of this just might be true for them as well. As we join together in worship, we create a place where we not only we can feel like we belong, but also and especially where those who may feel “on the outside” of faith can feel like they belong. I would say that in these days of fear and hostility, it’s no small thing to create a place where all people can feel that they belong in God’s love!

[2] Cf. James L. Mays, Psalms, 222.

Wednesday, October 16, 2024

High and Humble

Isaiah 57:15, Hebrew 4:12-16[1]

I’ve told you recently about some of my favorite Bible verses. Another one is Isaiah 57:15: “Our holy God lives forever in the highest heavens, and this is what he says: Though I live high above in the holy place, I am here to help those who are humble and depend only on me” (Isa 57:15, CEV). I love the way that verse combines two important aspects of who God is: God is both far beyond our ability to comprehend, and also as close to us as the very air we’re breathing right this minute. I like this verse because I’m not so sure we do a very good job holding those two essential concepts together. We’re comfortable with a God who “lives away up there,” but I’m not so sure we’re comfortable with a God who “walks beside me day by day.” At least I would suggest the way we live our lives indicates we’re happy to keep God at arm’s length, or perhaps more!

Think about it: we want a God who’s bigger than our problems. And we want a God who’s bigger than our problems to help when we ask. But we really prefer to live our own lives, thank you very much, when it comes to all the other aspects of life we think we can “handle.” I’m not sure we really want a God who gets involved with every aspect of our lives. If he does, it means we have to surrender every aspect of our lives to God. As much as we may say we want to do that, I have a sneaking suspicion that most of us prefer to stay in control. For some of us, I would say we might prefer that God would simply mind his own business and stay out of ours!

But that’s not the God of Abraham and Sarah, the God who brought the children of Isael out of slavery in Egypt and then again brought them home from exile in Babylon. It’s not the God who came to live among us in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, and who fed the hungry, embraced the outcasts, and got down and played with little children. Yes, God is the one who “lives forever in the highest heavens.” Yes, God is the one whose love for us and whose work on our behalf is infinitely beyond anything we can even dare to imagine (Eph 3:20). That also means that God is the one who is living and working in all our lives all the time. We may not even be able to dare to imagine what God is doing in and through us right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that the Bible insists God is indeed working in us, giving us “the desire and the power to do what pleases him” (Phil 2:13, NLT).[2]

That brings us to our Scripture lesson from Hebrews for today. We see a reflection of this belief that God is always at work in our lives in the statement that “the word of God is alive and powerful.” We may not always be aware of God’s living and powerful work in our lives because we’ve come up with so many ways to pay attention to anything but that. Again, I would say part of the reason why we prefer to distract ourselves from what God is be doing in our lives is because we’re really not all that comfortable having God that closely involved in our lives. If God’s word truly “exposes our innermost thoughts and desires” as our lesson says, we may want God to keep his distance. We may prefer a God who “lives away up there” because we really don’t want to get that close to the God who is more powerful than we can imagine and who works in our lives to accomplish his will, not ours!

But our scripture reading from Hebrews emphasizes that God’s powerful work in and through us right here and right now is not something we should fear. And that’s another lesson we learn from Jesus. Just as we believe that Jesus came in person to show us what God is truly like, so also we can trust in the image of God that Jesus shows us. Last week we saw that image reflected by playing with children. This week our lesson from Hebrews reminds us that, because he was willing to become like us and suffer for us, Jesus shows us the depth of God’s compassion and mercy. As our lesson puts it, Jesus “understands our weaknesses” because he “faced all of the same temptations as we do” (Heb 4:15, NLT).

While that statement is truly comforting, it’s also one that can be confusing. We have a hard time understanding how God can be both bigger than we can imagine and also intimately involved in every aspect of our lives. Our Scripture lesson today holds those two seemingly irreconcilable affirmations together by referring to God in terms of approaching “the throne of grace.” On the one hand, clearly God is depicted as one who exercises authority and power from a “throne.” The Bible consistently portrays God as the one who reigns over the entire created order. Not just what we can see, but all the galaxies that exist throughout the universe. God is the one who reigns over all the nations, and over each of our lives. God sits on a “throne” with authority and power.

And yet on the other hand, the Scripture lesson speaks of God’s throne as a “throne of grace.” The Bible reveals to us a God who empathizes with our struggles and sympathizes with our plight, a God who shares our pain and our suffering. The image of God revealed by Jesus Christ, the crucified savior, is one of compassion, and mercy. One aspect of our understanding that God became flesh in Jesus of Nazareth is that his experience of our full humanity reveals to us that God really and truly understands what we’re going through. It’s easy to think that God is so far “up there” that he really can’t identify with or understand what we have to go through in this life. But the lesson reminds us that Jesus “faced all of the same temptations as we do.” That means God cares deeply about us and empathizes with us so that God is intimately involved in every facet of our lives. For this reason, our Scripture lesson today invites us to turn in our time of need to the “throne of grace,” confident that when we do so we will find compassion and mercy.

That brings me back to the verse from Isaiah 57:15. In the version we heard earlier, the translation implies the fact that God is both exalted and compassionate are in tension with one another: “Though I live high above in the holy place, I am here to help those who are humble and depend only on me” (Isa 57:15, CEV). But I find it interesting that in the New Living Translation, those two aspects of God’s character aren’t in tension at all: “The high and lofty one who lives in eternity, the Holy One, says this: ‘I live in the high and holy place with those whose spirits are contrite and humble. I restore the crushed spirit of the humble and revive the courage of those with repentant heart’” (Isa 57:15, NLT). The “high and holy place” where God lives is precisely with “those whose spirits are contrite and humble,” precisely with us. God’s exalted power is displayed precisely in his willingness to humble himself in order to get involved in our lives, in every aspect of our lives.[3] And, of course, the ultimate purpose of God’s willingness to get involved in our lives to that extent is to transform us into the joyful and free people he created us to be, so that we might share his love with others and finally enjoy that love in his presence forever.

[2] Cf. Philippians 2:12-13 in The Message: “Be energetic in your life of salvation, reverent and sensitive before God. That energy is God’s energy, an energy deep within you, God himself willing and working at what will give him the most pleasure.”

[3] Cf. William C. Placher, Narratives of a Vulnerable God, 19: “God’s power is the power of love. … in freely loving, God is most of all who God is, most exemplifying the kind of power God has.” Cf. similarly Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 4.1:159: “In His high majesty He is humble. It is in this high humility that He speaks and acts as the God who reconciles the world to himself.

Tuesday, October 24, 2023

Choosing Peace

Philippians 4:4-13[1]

If you’re a person who follows the news, you know that the times in which we are living can make it hard to find our way to personal peace. Just the wars that are going on in the world right now are troubling enough. The war in Ukraine is moving toward a third year. And now, we have a conflict in the Middle East that threatens to engulf several nations. At the same time, the people of Afghanistan live under the constant threat of violence. When you add Iraq, Ethiopia, Sudan, Myanmar, Mexico, Nigeria, Niger, Mali, Colombia, and about 10 other countries where there are conflicts that have each inflicted thousands of deaths, it becomes a bit overwhelming. I think we might understand why so many people are frightened by the current state of the world. Or at the very least troubled.

Unfortunately, the history of the world is a history of violence and war. Indeed, there was a time when warfare was so common that it was simply expected that a young man would define his character by going off to war! It was a rite of passage! And many of those wars were not fought on some faraway battlefield across oceans. Rather, they were fought among the people. That’s still the reality with most of the wars going on today. They take place in the cities and towns and villages where innocent people become casualties. If you add up all the fatalities just in the last couple of years, it reaches the hundreds of thousands. And most of these wars have stretched on for decades, many of them for more than fifty years!

It’s hard for me to imagine entire generations of people growing up and living their whole lives in a state of war. I can’t begin to understand what that must be like for them. I don’t know about you, but I find that life in the relative safety of this country feels stressful enough. To be sure, we have threats at home as well. Our grandchildren are growing up with the specter of school shootings hanging over them. We all live with the knowledge that we cannot anticipate where the next mass shooting will happen. When you think too much about all of this, you may wonder whether “peace” is even a choice we can make.

But the truth of the matter for all of us, whether we’re talking about those of us who live in this country, or those who live in the midst of an active war, is that we all choose how we are going to respond to what is happening in our lives. Granted, there are some situations where we have more choice than others. As I mentioned last week, many of us may allow fear to control our reactions, and we don’t take the time to respond to the challenges of life with wisdom, faith, or courage. What we may not be able to see is that we are choosing that response. And we may not be able to see that we also have the ability to choose differently. We all can choose peace, no matter what we may be facing in life. The question is how to do that.

I believe our lesson from St. Paul gives us some practical help with that. What we should remember is that the people he was writing to in the church at Philippi faced many dangers because of their faith in Christ. Some of them had been thrown out of their families. Others had lost their livelihood, because they would no longer sacrifice to the Greek gods that were patron deities of their trade unions. Many found themselves at times at the mercy of mob violence—beaten and humiliated, and sometimes they lost their lives. These were people who knew danger quite well.

We should also remember that St. Paul himself experienced threats, even threats against his life! In his various letters he recounts his life as a Christian Apostle and it definitely was not a storybook life. Paul lists all that he had been through for the sake of Christ and the churches he served: he was flogged to the brink of death five times, pelted with stones and left for dead, shipwrecked three times, spending a night and a day adrift on the open sea, not to mention spending many a sleepless night in prison, hungry, and cold (2 Cor. 11:23-27). His life was one that was far from safe: as he said it himself, he experienced “danger from bandits, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea” (2 Cor. 11:26).

When I think about what the first Christians had to go through because of their faith, it makes me wonder how they were able to endure it all. In part, St. Paul answers that question with his call not to give in to fear, but to turn to God as our source of peace. And the promise he makes is a familiar one: “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:7). I think that’s where the battle with fear is won or lost—in our hearts and our minds. We need to feel safe in our hearts and we need to be able to think of our lives as secure. And St. Paul promises that we find that safety and security in God alone.

He goes on to assure us that “the God of peace will be with you” (Phil. 4:9). It’s a wonderful promise that may sometimes get overlooked because of the previous one. But it’s just as important for our ability to choose peace in our lives. Promising that “the God of peace will be with you” is something of a loaded statement. Speaking about the “God of peace” can be a description of God’s character: He is the God who embodies peace. It can also say something about the end result of God’s work in our world: He is the God who is working toward peace that extends to everyone. But, perhaps most importantly for this context, “the God of peace” can describe how God relates to us: He is the God who gives us peace. And Paul says that it is this God who is constantly with us, providing us with an anchor for our souls and a foundation upon which to build our lives.

I don’t believe we can rely on the circumstances of our lives as the source for our peace. At least, that’s been my experience. There will be times when life may seem fairly calm. In those times it’s relatively easy to find peace. But the challenge is finding peace when life is anything but calm. We need something more stable to help us face the fear and uncertainty of those times. For most of us, our fear isn’t about the threat of violence or war. Rather our fear comes from other threats: the loss of livelihood, the loss of family, the loss of health, the loss of home. Because the “God of peace” is always with us, we can always choose to respond to what is happening in our lives by looking to God to supply the “peace that surpasses all understanding.” In part, I believe that means recognizing that there are some aspects of life that we cannot control. We can’t control wars that are taking place around the world. We can’t control the violence that is overflowing our cities and towns. We can’t even control the most basic circumstances of our own lives. What we can do is to trust that our lives are always in God’s hands, and that regardless of what may happen to us in this life, there is no safer place for us to be. I would say that’s at least the first step toward choosing peace.

[1] © Alan Brehm 2023. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 10/15/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Sunday, February 21, 2021

In the Wilderness

Mark 1:9-15[1]

For all of the popular media around “the wilderness,” I would say it has varying degrees of appeal. For some of us, “roughing it” means spending a vacation in something less than a four-star resort. I for one enjoy spending time in the outdoors. I’ve spent many nights under the stars, and I thoroughly enjoyed most of them (not so much when it was pouring down rain!). And I have been on at least one trek in the middle of a National Forest, with a backpack full of gear and food and a group of several others with me. I’ve never been placed in the “middle of nowhere” and left on my own to fend for myself. I don’t think I’d want to do that. That version of being “in the wilderness” holds no appeal for me whatsoever!

In Jesus’ day, the “wilderness” was not something that was idealized for its pristine beauty or seen as a challenge to go out and overcome. The “wilderness” was as a place to avoid. It was the haunt of bandits and demons, and it is where Jesus encountered “the Satan” and “wild beasts.” Despite all this, in Mark’s Gospel the “wilderness” was the place where the “forerunner” made his appearance to “prepare the way of the Lord” (Mk 1:3-4). And the “wilderness” was also the place where Jesus was baptized (Mk 1:9). Though Jesus spent forty days in the “wilderness,” he was accompanied by the Spirit of God and by angels who “were serving him!”

Mark’s Gospel tells us a different story of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness than the one we’re most familiar with. If we take the Gospel of Mark seriously as a Gospel, we have to admit that our lesson for today presents us with a riddle. Jesus was in a place most people considered the very heart of danger, and yet he was neither in danger nor was he alone. Despite what the other Gospels tell us about Jesus’ temptation, it’s possible that when the angels were “serving” him, they were feeding him as they did for Elijah on his forty-day journey into the wilderness (1 Kg. 19:4-8). That would suggest perhaps Jesus didn’t fast in Mark’s version of the temptation! In fact, many scholars believe that even the “wild beasts” posed no threat to him, because his presence created peace with them that the Bible only envisions in the kingdom of God (cf. Isa. 11:6-9)!

So, we’re left to wonder how Mark’s account of Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness constituted a “temptation.” It would seem that he was not in danger. It’s possible that he didn’t have to go hungry. Where was the temptation? For one thing, in Mark’s Gospel, wherever Jesus went his very presence provoked a confrontation with the powers of evil. We see this confrontation here with the Satan,” or the accuser. The idea is that it went on continuously throughout the forty days. That in and of itself must have been exhausting for Jesus. Elsewhere in Mark’s Gospel when we see Jesus confronting the powers of evil, we also see him withdrawing by himself for a time of respite and prayer. He had no chance for any such respite here.

Besides the ongoing stress of confronting the powers of evil, I wonder if there wasn’t something more directed toward Jesus personally. I think we might see a hint when we read the rest of Mark’s Gospel. Jesus faced a constant temptation about whether or not he would fulfill God’s purpose for his life. He was continually pressed by the crowds to heal their sick, but that wasn’t his purpose. He was challenged by the religious leaders on every turn, but his purpose wasn’t to straighten them out. I would say that Jesus was tested even by his own disciples who believed he was destined to ascend the throne of Israel. That also wasn’t his purpose.

Jesus made it clear that his mission was to proclaim the good news that he was truly bringing to them the kingdom of God, a kingdom which offered God’s unconditional love, undeserved grace, and unfailing mercy to all. And it’s clear Jesus realized that fulfilling this mission was going to lead him down a path that would end with his death on a cross. In this respect, I would say that Jesus’ temptation lasted more than forty days. Throughout his ministry he faced the temptation to take a path other than the one that God had laid out for him, the path that would lead him to a cross. He was constantly tempted to give in to the cries for him to be a healer, a provider, or a hero, but not a Savior who would die for them and for us all. And at every turn, Jesus demonstrated his unswerving devotion to fulfill the mission for which God had sent him.

In that sense, I think we could say that Jesus spent his whole ministry in a “wilderness” being tested. I find comfort in that. It reminds me that he really was “tested in every respect as we are” (Heb. 4:15). I also find it assuring that Jesus didn’t face this test alone. He was supported by the grace of God and by the presence of the Holy Spirit. I think that’s true for us as well. At times our lives can feel like we’re constantly being tested in the “wilderness.” We all face experiences that push us to our very limits. It can be so intense we may wonder whether God has abandoned us. But I would say that God is always there with us, supporting us with his grace, encouraging us by the presence of his Spirit. Even when we may at times fail our tests, even when we may stumble and fall, we have a compassionate Savior and Lord who “sympathizes with our weaknesses” (Heb. 4:15). More than that, because he overcame every test, he opened the door for us all to receive God’s grace and strength (Heb. 4:16) to face whatever we may confront in the “wilderness” life can be for us.

Sunday, November 29, 2020

God is Coming!

Isaiah 64:1-12[1]

After nine months of living with a pandemic, our day-to-day lives may seem pretty “humdrum.” Most of what we did before we either can’t or shouldn’t do. Many of us experienced a very different Thanksgiving this week than the ones we’ve had before. In midst of the “routine” of staying safe, of avoiding the “three C’s,” and of social distancing, the days seem to run together. It makes it hard to find any hope when much of what gives life meaning is “off limits” to us. Where do we turn when all the doors seem closed?

With the start of Advent, our thoughts turn to Christmas. Many of us have already started decorating our homes to help us out of the pandemic “funk.” While that may help, I wonder whether we may have some much more serious work to do. That’s what hard times are for. They present us with an opportunity to re-examine our lives and make any “course corrections.” I think one place we all may need some work is in our faith. When life is good, it’s easy to believe that we are doing everything God wants us to. We go through the motions of our lives assuming that God is pleased with us. While I would not call God’s unfailing love into question, I think times of distress present us with the opportunity to take a hard look at ourselves and our faith.

The people whom the prophet Isaiah addressed were in that kind of a situation. After losing everything at the hands of the Babylonians, they had kept up at least a trace of faith during their exile in the promise that God would again “let his face shine” (Ps. 80:3) upon them and restore them to their homes and their lives and their land. But when they got back to Judea after their long years of exile, the reality of their “new life” fell far short of what they had hoped. The temple lay in ruins. Even the city of Jerusalem had no walls to protect them. Instead of returning to a “land flowing with milk and honey,” they returned to a land that had been devastated by war and left a wasteland. Their lives were harder than ever, and it seemed that the God of their deliverance was nowhere to be found.

In that situation, the prophet speaks aloud the questions that must have been on the minds of the people. After all they had suffered, he asked “where are your zeal and your might?” (Isa. 63:15) and “will you keep silent?” (64:12). Their circumstances and God’s seeming silence and absence contradicted what they had been told for generations, that God “will never forsake you” (Deut. 31:6, 8; Ps. 37:28; 94:14). They simply could not comprehend being abandoned by the God who revealed himself time and again as “merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (Exodus 34:6). And yet there they were crying out to God, asking why God had forsaken them.

The prophet could have given them a lot of different answers. Like other prophets in that day, he could have assured them that God would shortly make all their hopes come true. But that is not what this prophet does. This prophet moves from lamenting God’s silence and absence to the confession of sin. In the name of the people, he confesses “We have all become like one who is unclean” (Isa. 64:6). The prophet omits no one from his heart-wrenching confession: “we all” echoes throughout the passage like a bell tolling: we all, we all, we all. The hard truth is that the people had forsaken their God, time after time for centuries. No one could protest, “I never did anything wrong.”

And yet, though the confession of sin might seem only to make matters worse, it is precisely the way to recover hope. After pouring out his heart in confession, the prophet returns to the faith that they who had stumbled badly remained God’s people. He recalls that “you are our Father,” and he calls on God to act accordingly (64:8). Just as “we all” had turned away from God, the prophet reminds the people that “we all” were still God’s people (64:9). The prophet points out to God that their lives and their lands remained in ruins, and asks, “After all this, will you restrain yourself, O Lord? Will you keep silent, and punish us so severely?” (64:12).

When it feels like God is absent and all hope is lost, one path to restoring our hope takes us through confession and repentance. At this time, I’m not sure we want to hear about confession and repentance. We’d rather just forget about our troubles and go about shopping and cooking and celebrating. The last thing on our minds is confession and repentance. And yet that is precisely what the season of Advent is: a time to “prepare the way for the Lord” by examining our own hearts and lives. If we’re honest with ourselves, we have to admit that, like the people of Judah, “we all” have fallen short.

Times like these test our faith. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. A test like this can help us to identify where we need to grow stronger. When times are “good,” we all have a tendency to “make God in our own image.” Hard times provide the chance for us to deepen and strengthen our faith in God as God truly is, not as we would have him to be.[2] When we use the time of “waiting” at Advent to examine our faith, we can discover that God is always the coming one: the one who is always approaching us, loving us, and drawing us into the joy of that love. Wherever we go, whatever our situation may be, God is always “coming” to us!

[2] Cf. Christopher Seitz, “The Book of Isaiah 40-66,” New Interpreters Bible VI: 531.

Wednesday, September 02, 2020

Human Things

Matthew 16:21-28[1]

Our lives are filled with distractions. I’d say we have more distractions now than ever before, but I also think there have always been activities to occupy ourselves. We fill our lives with distractions primarily because we feel, in the depths of our soul, that we are alone in this world. We may have all the family, friends, and support we could ever want, but we inhabit a space that feels very much like it has a sole occupant: ourselves. Most of us are deeply uncomfortable with that sense of solitude. It feels empty to us; it feels lonely. So we fill up our lives with activities to distract ourselves from that emptiness.

But the truth of our lives is that we are never alone. The promise of Scripture is that God is “God-who-is-with-us.” And the God who is with us is also at the heart of his very being faithful. That means that God will never “fail us or forsake us.”[2] God will always be the “God-who-is-with-us.” And because God is also the “God-who-is-for-us,” we can trust that God loves us, and his love for us never fails. When we truly grasp these truths in the depth of our souls, we can know that we are never really alone. That frees us from the need to fill our lives with “human things” that distract us.[3]

Our Gospel lesson for today speaks to this. Jesus announced to his disciples that his commitment to God’s kingdom meant that he would have to go to Jerusalem to die. And then he proceeded to tell them that if they wanted to be his disciples, they must deny themselves, take up their own crosses, and follow him. Furthermore, he taught them that the only way to truly live is to give themselves away for the sake of others. It’s no wonder that Peter “rebuked” Jesus by saying literally, “May God have mercy on you, Lord!” (Matt 16:22). The idea is that God in his mercy would spare Jesus (and them all) from this fate. That’s why it’s normally translated something like “Heaven forbid, Lord!”

But Jesus knew his path and where it was leading him. And so he rebuked the rebuke, so to speak. He told Peter, “you are setting your mind not on divine things, but on human things” (Matt. 16:23). What those “human things” were we don’t know for sure, but we can probably guess. Many Jewish people in that day expected the Messiah to overthrow the Romans and ascend to the throne of David. The idea of a Messiah who would sacrifice his life and die simply made no sense to them. And as James and John illustrate, it’s likely that the disciples had their hopes set on the “perks” that would come their way when Jesus took his “rightful place” (in their minds).

Now, of course there’s nothing wrong with setting your sights on doing great things. And there’s certainly nothing wrong with seeking to serve the Kingdom of God. But the problem comes in when we get our “selves” involved. Our desires to achieve are related to filling the void we feel our own hearts. We strive to stay busy in order to validate ourselves in the eyes of others and in our own eyes. And the more intently we focus on our “selves” the tighter that space that we inhabit becomes. Finally, we are trapped by the fear of losing what we have convinced ourselves we absolutely must have in order to be “okay” with ourselves. We are trapped by “human things.”

But as Jesus warned his disciples, when we try to “save” our lives in this way we only wind up losing them! When we get trapped in the prison of our own self-interest, our own needs, and our own fears, it becomes a place that robs us of life itself. All the ways in which we try to fill the void we fear only close the trap around us more tightly. The harder we try to cling to these “human things,” the more we confine ourselves to that trap that robs us of life. We only truly discover the life that God gives us when we finally and fully understand that God is with us always, and that God loves us fully forever. When we understand that the fundamental truth of our very existence is that we are deeply loved by God, then we can let go all the things we cling to so tightly and open ourselves to God’s presence. Then we can see all the “human things” we use to fill our lives for the empty pursuits that they are, and instead find the true meaning of our lives in the love of God which never lets us go!

In some respects, this is only a matter of truly finding our way out of our own distractions and learning to love God with all that we are. When that deep, deep love of God becomes for us the truth that sets us free, we find that the door to the trap is opened, and we can live our lives and love those around us and serve God and others with hearts full of joy. We find our lives when we lose them for Christ’s sake. We find our lives when we find them filled with God’s love. We learn to truly live when we let go the “human things” that haunt us and entrap us.

[2] Deuteronomy 31:6, 8; Joshua 1:5; Hebrews 13:5.

[3] Cf. Henri Nouwen, The Only Necessary Thing, 43-47, 67.

Wednesday, May 13, 2020

On This Day

On this Day

Psalm 118:24[1]

On this day we come together to celebrate the heart of our faith: that Jesus lives! It is something that may be difficult for us to wrap our heads around. We can understand sacrificing oneself for the sake of others. Most of us have been called upon to do just that for the sake of the people in our lives we love and care about. But none of us has any first-hand experience with resurrection—at least not literally. We may have known someone who has had a “near-death” experience. But there is simply nothing in our experience of this world that gives us a basis for grasping the idea that a person who was dead—not for minutes, but for over 36 hours—somehow came back to life.

That doesn’t bother me too much, though, because I know that there are some elements of our faith that we may never understand. But while I may never be able to explain the resurrection of Jesus from death to life, I can experience the risen Lord in and through my life. I can sense the presence of the Spirit, I can feel Jesus’ impulse to compassion, and I can enjoy the freedom of faith and hope in the God who is always here. At the end of the day, I think that’s what Easter is about. When we experience the presence and power of God in our lives, it is the same Spirit that the disciples encountered in Jesus of Nazareth. And the reason we celebrate the resurrection on Easter Sunday is because that same Spirit of the risen Christ lives in you and in me and in all who have the experience of his continuing presence.

The Psalmist celebrated a kind of death-to-life renewal. He spoke of being in distress, of being surrounded on every side (Ps. 118:5, 10-11). The Psalmist spoke of being “pushed hard” to the point of falling (Ps. 118:13). The language suggests the setting of battle, but I’m not sure we should take that literally. Whether he was at the crucial point of a battle, at the point where it could have gone either way, or simply at a critical turning point in his life, he felt as if he could have been defeated. It’s in that setting that the Psalmist affirms, “The LORD is my strength and my might; he has become my salvation” (Ps. 118:14). Like a piece of stone that had been cast aside as worthless, only to be retrieved later as the most important building block that holds the rest of the structure together, the Psalmist rejoices that he has been delivered from whatever it was that threatened him.

And so he rejoices that “This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it” (Ps. 118:24). That’s the way most translations put it. But if we pay attention to the sequence, it seems like there’s more to this verse than just celebrating God’s hand in each day. This is a special day. The rejected one has been raised to the place of highest honor. In response the Psalmist says, “This is the Lord's doing; it is marvelous in our eyes” (Ps. 118:23). One of the features of the Psalms is that verses are parallel with each other. Sometimes to point out a contrast. Here, I think it is for emphasis. And so that familiar verse probably shouldn’t be read as “this is the day the Lord has made,” but rather “on this day the Lord has done it; let us rejoice and be glad in what he has done.” It’s a celebration of an act so unexpected, so unique, and so “marvelous” that all we can do is to celebrate what God has done with joy and gladness.

I think that’s what Easter is about. It’s a celebration that on this day, all those years ago, God acted decisively to break the break the power of everything that threatens to enslave or oppress or distort or destroy our humanity. It’s a celebration that, on this day, God took all our pain and sorrow and suffering and sadness and loss and death and turned it all into new life. Easter is a celebration of the new life that came into being on this day and that it will one day transform everything and everyone. It is a celebration that, on this day, God acted in a decisive way to demonstrate that he is constantly working to restore the whole creation to the place where it is once again “very good.”

Simply put, because the Spirit of Easter is alive and well in this community of faith, I believe in a God who is working to bring grace and peace and mercy and love and joy and life into every life. And we experience that “marvelous” work of God in our own lives as we know the continuing presence of Jesus in all our lives. It means that for us, “Jesus is the light in our darkness, the bread that satisfies our hunger, the vine that is the source of our life, the healer who makes us whole … .”[2] Not “Jesus was,” but “Jesus is.” Easter is like a promise that points toward a future filled with hope and joy and love and life. But it is a promise that we can all begin to experience right here and right now because Jesus is alive and well in us all. Although we may never understand all that Easter means, because Jesus is alive and well in us, on this day, we can celebrate what God is doing in and through us.

[2] Borg, Heart of Christianity, 88.

God is There

Psalm 22[1]

As we conclude the season of Lent with the remembrance of Jesus’ suffering and death, we may recall that Jesus quoted the first line of Psalm 22 in his agony on the cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Ps. 22:1). The very idea is unsettling: that the God who promises never to forsake us would in fact do so. And the prospect that he abandoned his own Son at the moment when he fulfilled God’s saving purpose most completely can be shocking. I think Jesus knew he had to die. Yet he cried out “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me.” I believe Jesus trusted that God would raise him from the dead. Yet he cried out “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me.” What troubles me is the question where God was while all this was happening.

I know the standard response: “he had to turn away because Jesus took all the sin of the world on himself and God cannot look upon sin.” That just doesn’t cut it for me. I want to know where God was during the awful silence that followed Jesus’ prayer. It is a prayer after all, addressed to God. Jesus wasn’t just acting out some sort of elaborate play. This was the real thing. And when the agony of the cross overwhelmed him, Jesus cried out one of the most heartbreaking prayers of the Bible. And God’s response was … silence. Did God really forsake Jesus on the cross?

Maybe we’re looking at this in the wrong way. We tend to equate silence with abandonment. But sometimes we’re silent with those who are suffering because we are suffering with them. I believe that’s what was going on at the cross. Rather than abandoning his Son, God was right there with Jesus, experiencing all the anguish his heartbreaking prayer expresses.^{^[2]} God was silent because God was suffering with Jesus. While the idea of God “suffering” might seem strange to us, at the cross God made it clear once and for all that his suffering has become our redemption, and his apparent weakness is in fact a demonstration of his powerful love.

Perhaps the biggest surprise in all of this that the cry “My God, My God, why?” can actually be an expression of faith. What we have to notice is that the Psalm takes an abrupt turn. The psalmist cried out to the Lord, and the Lord heard his cries and delivered him from whatever was causing his trouble. And he confirms that God is the one who is on the side of those who suffer: “[God] did not despise or abhor the affliction of the afflicted; he did not hide his face from me, but heard when I cried to him” (Ps. 22:24). The point of this is that even in the midst of suffering, God is there, paying close attention to those who are suffering, hearing their every cry for help.

Unfortunately, the idea that those who suffer must be undergoing punishment for some kind of wrongdoing is something that has become ingrained for many of us. I think this pattern of thinking can be most harmful when we encounter suffering ourselves. When hardship strikes us we tend to think, “What did I do to deserve this?” And yet if we can take the Psalmist’s perspective, perhaps instead we can trust in God’s unfailing love despite any hardships we encounter. We can take this step of faith because at the cross God demonstrated once and for all that he is the one who is there with all the afflicted in their suffering.

When we wonder where God was while Jesus was suffering on cross, the answer is that God was right there suffering with him. And that answer also applies to each and every one of us when we may wonder where God is in our moments of anguish.^{^[3]} God is just as present with us as he was with Jesus. God will not abandon us any more than he abandoned Jesus. If God seems silent, it is not because he is ignoring us, it is because he is suffering with us. That’s where God always is—right beside us, walking with us every step of the way, supporting us in ways that are sometimes unseen and unfelt. But they are real nevertheless. Wherever you find any suffering or heartbreak or anguish in this world, God is there, pouring out his love to bring healing and new life.

[1] © Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 4/9/2020 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann The Way of Jesus Christ, 173: far from abandoning his Son, “in the surrender of the Son the Father surrenders himself too.”

[3] Cf. Martin Marty, A Cry of Absence: Reflections for the Winter of the Heart, 174 “God participates in the life of the people [who suffer] and suffers at their side.”

Sunday, May 10, 2020

Not Afraid

Psalm 23[1]

A world-wide pandemic. One of the steepest downturns in the stock market. Hoarding of basic supplies. Schools closing and going to remote instruction. Restaurants going to take-out only service. Restrictions of the number of people gathering together. These are just some of the startling developments that have happened in less than a month, many of them in the last week! It would be impossible not to feel the stress, the loss, and even the fear of the moment in history in which we find ourselves. So what crazy person came up with a sermon entitled “Not Afraid?”

And yet, I think there are good reasons not to be afraid. The most important of them is our faith that no matter what happens, God is with us, supporting us with his love and mercy and grace. I think that’s the lesson of our Scripture reading from Psalm 23. It presents us with the image of God as “my” shepherd. In that role, God is the one who leads us all individually beside still waters and makes us lie down in green pastures. God is the one who directs our paths in the right way, simply because it pleases him to do so. God is the one who protects us with his “rod and staff” even in the most frightening situations. God is the one who prepares a lavish banquet and makes us the guests of honor.

All of these images reinforce the declaration that “the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” The images come together to bring calm and peace to us as we imagine what it might be like to lie down in green pastures, and to rest beside still waters. Or as we imagine his constant presence protecting us even in the darkest of valleys. Or the joy and refreshment of sitting down to a meal of all our favorite “comfort foods,” prepared just for us.

One of the important details of the Psalm is that the assurance it promises is based not just on personal experience, but on what God has done in the lives of his people in the past. This is especially true for the people of Israel. From the Exodus out of Egypt to the Wilderness wanderings to settling the land “flowing with milk and honey,” God continually protected and provided for his people. And so they could say, “the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.”^{^[2]}

More than that, I believe God takes great pleasure in caring for us in this way.^{^[3]} Some providers and protectors do so out of obligation or duty. God does so out of grace, out of love, out of his determination to be “God-who-is-with-us” and “God-who-is-for-us.” Of course, we see this grace and mercy of God most clearly in Jesus, who declared himself to be our “Good Shepherd.”

All of these images in the Psalm reinforce the promise that God is with us always, in whatever situation we may find ourselves. The God who watches over us is the one who constantly cares for and nurtures all creation—galaxies and nebulae we have never even seen; the sun, moon, and stars; plants, animals, rocks and trees; and people of every size, shape, and color. If God delights in caring for all of that, I think we can trust that God delights in caring for us. And so we can be “not afraid,” because “the Lord is my shepherd.”

[2] Cf. James L. Mays, Psalms, 117-19.

[3] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 2.1:74-75.

Tuesday, January 21, 2020

God-Who-Is-With-Us

God-who-is-with-us

Matthew 1:18-25[1]

At this time of year, it seems that many of us are concerned with surprises. We want once again to surprise those we love with gifts that convey our love, and we want to be surprised again with gifts from them that convey their love. I must confess that I’m not very good at surprising people. Rather than making the mistake of buying someone a gift that I may like but they don’t, I rely on “wish lists” from my children and grandchildren. It would be good if I took notes throughout the year like my son Michael has started doing. Unfortunately, I don’t think of that until it’s too late. I think perhaps I’m not alone in that dilemma!

As we come to the celebration of Christmas, we are reminded that the story of Jesus’ birth is one that is full of surprises. The Savior of humankind comes to us not as a Roman aristocrat, but as a Jewish peasant! He is born not in the finest villa but in a cave cut out for livestock! He is worshiped not by the “high and mighty” among his people, but by the down and out, simple shepherds. Those nobles who do pay homage to him are foreigners; they are astrologer-priests from Babylon whom we call “wise men” but who would have been considered magicians, enchanters, diviners, and sorcerers by the Jewish people. At least that’s what they’re called in the book of Daniel.

I think the biggest surprise about the story of Jesus is what it tells us about God. When it comes to imagining a divine being, many of us automatically think of one who is remote and detached. We think of a powerful authority figure who is so busy running the universe that there’s no time to be concerned about “little people” like you and me. At least that has been the image of God that most people have lived with throughout history. God is to be feared because God can “zap” us at a whim. God is to be kept at a distance because if we get too close we might offend God and wind up getting punished for it. Our primary response is to hide from this God for fear that if God really knows us, our ultimate fate will be grim.

But the story of Jesus’ birth is one that presents us with a completely opposite view of God. As our lesson from Matthew’s Gospel demonstrates, the birth of Jesus shows us a God who is “with us” and “for us.” This is a radically different understanding of God, even for people who were raised on the teachings of the Hebrew Bible, as were Mary and Joseph. It’s so radically different that it takes an angelic messenger to make sure that Mary understands what’s going on. And God himself has to come to Joseph in a dream in order to get it through his pre-conceived notions!

The story of Jesus’ birth reveals to us that God is “with us.” That’s literally the meaning of the name “Emmanuel.” It’s from two Hebrew words, immanu, which means “with us,” and el, which is a shortened form of the word for God. This message is not really new. Through the prophets God had been trying to get across that his very identity always has been “God-who-is-with-us.”^{^[2]} And yet, we humans have always been slow to believe it. Just emphasizing again that fundamental truth would have been a dramatic statement. But the fact that God came in the person of Jesus, the helpless infant lying in a feed trough, in order to get through to us that he is always the “God-who-is-with-us” was mystifying to those who witnessed it. I would venture to say that it still is.

If we think of God as one who is demanding and punishing, then “God with us” might not be good news. But there’s more to the story of Jesus’ birth. The very fact that Matthew is instructed to name him “Jesus” suggests not only that God is “with us,” but also that God is “for us.”^{^[3]} The name “Jesus” in Hebrew was Yehoshua. It was a combination of a shortened form of the name of God, Yahweh, and the Hebrew word for salvation, yeshua. It literally means, “God saves.” Or, in other words, God is “for us.” The birth of Jesus not only shows us the “God-who-is-with-us,” but also that God is “for us.”

In Jesus, God came to once and for all get it through to us that everything he had ever done was intended to make clear that God is always “with us” and “for us.” This is the heart of the good news that we celebrate in the birth of Jesus. It was not something new with Jesus, because God has always been “God-who-is-with-us” and “God-who-is-for-us.” As one of my favorite theologians says it, everything God has ever done has been a kind and loving humbling of himself to give us his saving mercy.^{^[4]} But the way in which God demonstrates his love in Jesus is so dramatic that it changes everything. Once and for all, God makes it clear that he is “God-who-is-with-us” and “for us.”

For some reason, I think every time we hear that great good news it comes to us again and again as a surprise. Perhaps we think of ourselves as unworthy. Or perhaps we just cannot wrap our heads around a God who humbles himself. But that’s exactly what we celebrate at Christmas. God comes to be “with us” and “for us.” And he does so by coming as one of the least, one of the last, one of those cast out and brushed aside. God does not come to be “with us” and “for us” by a dramatic demonstration of divine power, accompanied by tens of thousands of his angel armies. He comes to us by taking the form of a helpless infant lying in a feed trough. He comes to us as God in flesh, Emmanuel, “God-who-is-with-us.”

[2] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 2.2:735: “God does not will to be without us, but, no matter who and what we may be, to be with us, that He Himself is always ‘God with us,’ Emmanuel.”

[3] Cf. Barth, Church Dogmatics 2.1:174, 4.1:7, 12.

[4] Emil Brunner, The Christian Doctrine of God, 184.

Saturday, July 06, 2019

God's Delight

God’s Delight

Prov. 8:22-31[1]

I’ve spoken before about the problems of our “virtual” culture. Most of us are constantly staring at some kind of screen or other. On the one hand, I’d have to admit, that I really appreciate the access to information, photos, and videos from around the world. Having spent a fair amount of my life hunting down a book in a library somewhere, it’s really nice to be able to look up the information I need on the web. Having instant access to pictures and images from around the world makes the news seem somehow more real. And, of course, I myself am a connoisseur of internet music, movies, and TV.

I think, however, that the problem with our “virtual” culture, is that we may be in danger of losing our ability to just enjoy the beauty of life. We get conditioned to having a certain level of stimulation from the screens we watch, and that makes it harder for us to just “be still” and watch a sunset, or children playing, or simply to cherish the company of another person. Although it has been disproven that we humans now have a shorter attention span than a goldfish, there is an abundance of information available that makes it clear that the way we pay attention is changing. Primarily, it shows that, with so much more information available, we are more likely to lose interest in some activities more quickly.

Our lesson from Proverbs presents us with a beautiful image of a very different approach to life. It depicts God creating all things like a master craftsman or a skilled artist. If you’ve ever tried to create something in that way, you know that it takes sustained and careful attention. That’s the way God relates to his creation. After all, Creation comes from God’s desire to have a relationship with those who can choose to return God’s love and share God’s love with one another. And like a skilled artist takes delight in a sculpture or a painting, God takes great delight in all creation. That means that all creation, including the human family, continues to be the object of God’s sustained and careful attention.

Though the book of Proverbs pre-dates Jesus by several centuries, there is already hint here of God being more than a single solitary being far removed from anyone or anything. In Proverbs God has a counterpart and God is actively involved in our lives. In our lesson “Wisdom” is God’s counterpart, not only applauding with joy at every aspect of creation but also working with God to make sure everything fits—as a master craftsman. I like the way Gene Peterson translates it in The Message: “I was right there with him, making sure everything fit. Day after day I was there, with my joyful applause, always enjoying his company, delighted with the world of things and creatures, happily celebrating the human family” (Prov. 8:30-31).

The interesting thing about “Wisdom” as God’s counterpart in Proverbs is that Wisdom is personified as a woman! “Lady Wisdom” gets involved: she cries out in the streets, seeking those who are simple-minded and going astray from the truth and calling them to return and live the life God intended for them. In the New Testament, Jesus pretty much assumes this role. He is the one who calls all people to God’s love and God’s life. And as we are reminded on Pentecost, God has another counterpart that gets overlooked at times—the Spirit. In the Bible, it takes all three, God the Creator, Jesus the Redeemer, and the Spirit who sustains us, to fully understand who God is.

This is the image of God in the Bible: God in relationship, God in community, God involved in our lives.[2] If it’s true that “God is love” (1 John 4:8), it should come as no surprise that God has counterparts in the Bible, since love requires a counterpart, an “other” to love. This one God who is three—Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer—exists in a relationship of love and community within Godself. This is central to our faith, because the love represented by the relationships in the Trinity is the basis for our community and for everything God does in our lives.

In our day, not many people have much use for the idea of God as Trinity. It seems an abstract and far-fetched concept for theologians to debate. To those of us in the church, it may seem like just words we recite in the Apostles’ Creed that don’t really affect us in real life. But the point of the Trinity is that God is a God of love—not just love that observes from afar, but love that reaches out to us and seek a relationship with us. The God who creates and redeems and sustains us is a God who shows us a love that is constantly present among us, that gets involved in our lives, and that takes action to fill our lives with love. [3] The ultimate goal is that our lives might reflect that same love in our relationships with one another.

As our affirmation of faith for today puts it, our God is the “One God who is the Creator and Sustainer, the Savior and Lord, the Giver of life within, among, and beyond us.”[4] If we understand this image of God through the lens of our Scripture lesson, we see God as one who takes great delight in the beauty of the natural world, and takes great delight in the human family. That’s right—all this talk about Trinity means that each one of us benefits from God’s unfailing love and care, God’s constant presence and support, and even more than that, we are all people in whom God takes keen interest and great delight.

[1] © Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 6/16/2019 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE. Based in part on a sermon by the same title from 5/26/2013.

[2] Jürgen Moltmann, God for a Secular Society: The Public Relevance of Theology, 101: The biblical image of God is “God in community, rich in relationships. ‘God is love.’”

[3] Jürgen Moltmann, Science and Wisdom, 185: “According to Wisdom literature (Ecclesiasticus, for example), this creative Wisdom can also be called God’s Word or God’s Spirit. But what is meant is always the presence of God immanent in the world and present in all things.” Cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, The Spirit of Life: A Universal Affirmation, 46.

[4] Presbyterian Church in the United States. A Declaration of Faith. 117th General Assembly (1977), reissued by Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), 1991.

The Waking Dreamer