Joyful

Joyful

Luke 3:1-18[1]

You may have gathered that today is the Sunday in Advent when we celebrate the joy of the season. That’s why we light a pink candle on this day. It’s meant to be different from the other Sundays in Advent. On the other hand, one of the ironies of Advent is that on this day when we emphasize the joy of the season, the Gospel reading always points us to John the Baptist. If you remember your Bible, you may recall that John the Baptist didn’t exactly have the most cheerful message. In fact, I would say that John’s vision of the kingdom of God was very different from what Jesus preached. It sounds like John believed what God was doing in the world was primarily punishing wrongdoers. When you listen closely to Jesus, while he called people to repent of all the ways they lived that harmed themselves or others, he also forgave them. He offered them God’s unfailing love. Jesus called people to a relationship with God as a loving father.

Our Gospel lesson from Luke for today tells the story of John’s ministry of baptizing the people who came to him. But John responds to them in a strange way in Luke’s Gospel. Luke tells us that when John saw the crowds coming to be baptized by him, he turned them away, calling them a “brood of snakes” (Luke 3:7 NLT)! This is different from what we hear in the other Gospels. Especially in Matthew, where the harsh words we hear John hurling at the crowds are reserved only for the Pharisees and Sadducees (Mt 3:7). At first glance, we might think that John needed to work on his “people skills”! But what seems to be going on is that Luke understood that the call to repentance John made to the Jewish religious leaders applied to everyone.[2] In order for them to experience the salvation of the Lord they would have to “Prove by the way you live that you have repented of your sins and turned to God” (Lk. 3:8 NLT). In the words Luke quotes from the prophet Isaiah in our gospel lesson, for the people to experience God’s salvation, what was crooked must first be made straight, and what was rough must be smoothed (Lk 3:5-6 NLT).

The way John defined what that looked like turns out to be very practical. Perhaps even surprisingly so. When the people asked him what they should do, he said simply, “If you have two shirts, give one to the poor. If you have food, share it with those who are hungry” (Lk 3:11). At first glance, that may sound too easy. But I would say there’s a lot behind that statement. Truly sharing what we have with those who are in need is something that comes from the heart. And for us to be willing to share generously, we have to undergo a change of heart. That kind of generosity doesn’t always come naturally to us. It seems to be human nature to be more concerned with our own welfare than someone else’s. Especially someone we don’t even know.

I think those of us who have experienced that kind of change of heart know by experience that it takes the power of God’s love. We cannot truly turn away from a life that is self-centered without the work of the Spirit convicting us that to live that way is not only harmful to others, but also to ourselves. While it’s true that the kind of repentance and change of life that John was talking about is a choice that we all make, not just once but time and time again, it’s also true that for that change to be real, for it to truly make a difference in the way we live, God has to be the one to change our hearts.

That’s where I see the difference between John and Jesus. John called the people out on the ways they were not living generously. Jesus offered them something more. He offered them God’s grace, which means that God accepted them as they were. He offered them God’s love, a love that always had been and always would remain true. What we know by our experience is that when Jesus offers us a relationship with the God who loves us and accepts us completely and unconditionally just as we are, it is something that can and does truly change our hearts. I think that’s why Jesus’ ministry had a more “joyful” tone than John’s.

On the other hand, we shouldn’t be surprised that Jesus and John were on the same page about what they said the people should do. Most of us are familiar with Jesus’ words, “I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me” (Mt 25:35-36, NLT). It’s not hard to see that this is a longer version of what John said. What we might easily miss, however, is what stands behind this way of life. This is a way of life: giving food to the hungry and drink to the thirsty, giving welcome to the stranger, clothing for the naked, and caring for the sick. There’s a lot that lies behind that as a way of life.

In a very real sense, it’s the same thing we find in the Ten Commandments. The very beginning of the Commandments puts it this way: “I am the Lord your God, who rescued you from the land of Egypt” (Ex 20:2, NLT). That’s where the whole life of service to God starts. The idea is that God had set the people free from slavery, and the way that they would stay free was by aligning their lives with God’s ways. This is the way they would truly find joy and fulfillment. This is the way they would truly find life![3] The same remains true for us today. We offer our lives in service to others, in obedience to God, seeking to follow Jesus and his way because we’ve experienced God’s love and God’s unconditional welcome, and it has changed our hearts.

Again, I don’t think we should be surprised that Jesus and John the Baptist were on the same page about his. We find that same point of view reflected time and time again in the prophets. The way to live a life that is truly joyful is to surrender our hearts and lives to God and follow his ways to the best of our ability. The way to live a life that is truly joyful is to live generously. But we can only do that with God’s help.

When God welcomes us with open arms, when God accepts us unconditionally, when God’s love embraces us, we cannot help but share that same welcome, acceptance, and love with others. To borrow the metaphor from the hymn, when the warm rays of God’s love truly touch our hearts, we find that our hearts “unfold like flowers” before him. And as we do the “clouds of sadness” and “dark of doubt” are driven away. Then we join with all God’s “works” that call us to join in the great chorus of joy reflected back to him, not only with our words, but also with our lives. When we know that “love divine is reigning o’er us,” we can share love with other people generously, and live a life that is truly joyful.

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[1] © 2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 12/15/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Joel Green, Theology of the Gospel of Luke, 36-37, where he suggests that Luke wanted to place special emphasis the importance of repentance as a “radical realignment of their lives with God’s purpose” that should be demonstrated in every aspect of their daily lives.

[3] Cf. Perry Yoder, “Liberated by Law,” Sojourners Magazine, September-October 1999  (Vol. 28, No. 5), 46. Cf. also John Shelby Spong, Living Commandments, 14, 15, where he says that the Ten Commandments are the principles through which we find “the fullness of life, the depth of love, and the meaning of our own humanity.”

(Re)Turning

 (Re)Turning

Psalm 25; Mark 1:15[1]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[1] ©2024 Alan Brehm.  A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 2/18/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

God's Mercy Never Fails

God’s Mercy Never Fails

Luke 13:1-9[1]

How we view “salvation” makes all the difference in how we view God. When we make it about sorting out who goes to Heaven and who goes to Hell, it’s hard to see a loving and merciful God in that. In fact, that whole way of looking at salvation seems to fit more with a God who is “jealous” and “angry.” When we make salvation about where we’re going to wind up in the end, we make God out to be a God whose anger “devours” all who provoke him, a God whose “wrath” wreaks “vengeance” upon those who go astray. That’s the God of “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” I would say that version of “salvation,” and the view of God that goes with it, inspires more fear than it does hope.

While you can find plenty of Bible verses to back up that view of God and salvation, I would say it misses the whole point. The essential revelation of God’s character in the Bible is what God declared to Moses in the “cleft of the rock”: “The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (Ex 34:6). That message resounds throughout the Bible, especially in the Psalms: “O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever” (Ps 136:1). And the message of salvation is that this God whose very character is mercy and grace is working to draw us all into his infinite kindness, and his love that never fails. This understanding of salvation, and the view of God that goes with it, inspires hope!

Once again this may seem like a strange way to introduce the Gospel lesson for today. But I would say that how we view God is at the heart of making sense out of this passage. We hear Jesus saying, “unless you repent you will all perish,” but I think we must do a double take because it doesn’t sound much like Jesus! I believe what’s going on here is that Jesus was confronting the self-righteousness of the people who brought up the fate of the Galileans. In the setting of Luke’s Gospel, Jesus has been talking about the importance of the proper response to the kingdom of God: repentance and faithfulness. These folks came to Jesus assuming that because they agreed with him, they were much better off than the “poor” Galileans who “must have done something to deserve their fate.”

I think that’s why Jesus adopts a rather harsh tone here: “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did” (Lk 13:2-3). I think he was confronting them with the casual way in which they painted those Galileans as “worse sinners” because of what happened to them. God doesn’t work that way. And Jesus was confronting them for thinking of themselves as if they didn’t need to repent. But in Luke’s Gospel Jesus proclaimed that God’s love demands a change of heart from all of us that changes our lives!

The fact that Jesus emphasized the urgency of this change for everyone may still sound strange to us. But I would say that’s why Luke’s gospel combines Jesus’ warning about the urgency of repentance with the parable of the fig tree. It might not seem obvious, but I would say that the parable is meant to balance the demand for repentance with the assurance that God’s mercy never fails. The reason we might miss that is because we tend to think that the owner of the vineyard who came expecting fruit from the fig tree represents God. And we think that the gardener seeking more time represents Jesus. I don’t think that’s the point. In the parable of the fig tree God is both the one who demands that we change our hearts and lives, and the one who patiently draws us toward that change in his kindness, mercy, and love.

There’s a balance to be struck here. It’s true that God’s love demands of us all a heart-felt change that results in a different way of living. But it’s also true that the God who is working to make all things new is kind beyond measure, infinitely patient, and merciful without fail. That means God never stops seeking to draw us to himself. Like the gardener in the parable of the fig tree, God is continually “cultivating” our hearts to produce the “fruit” of living in a way that lines up with God’s love.

 Of course, if God is simply sorting out sinners and saints, none of this makes much sense! I realize that view of salvation has been around for a long time. But it’s way too simplistic. And the end result is that people live in fear of their “eternal destiny” all their lives. The biblical view of salvation is that the God whose very character is mercy and grace is always working to “cultivate” our hearts, always working to draw us into his infinite kindness, and his love that never fails. We may have to wait to see the fruit of what God is doing in our lives, but it all flows from who God is. I believe that’s worth waiting for!

Yes, when God’s love takes hold of our hearts, it demands that we all change our lives. I think that’s why Jesus spoke the way he did to those who came to him looking to be congratulated for their “righteousness.” Jesus was reminding them that God’s love demands that we all change our lives. But at the same time, the Bible’s primary teaching about God is that he is infinitely patient, and merciful without fail, giving us the time we need to make that change. I don’t believe we have to live in fear that we may at any moment step over some line that will exclude us from God’s love. Rather, I believe we can remain hopeful as we wait to see salvation fulfilled, because God’s mercy never fails!

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[1] © 2022 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 3/20/2022 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

The Way of Peace

 The Way of Peace

Luke 1:67-80; 3:1-6[1]

This is the season when we look forward to “peace on earth.” But peace doesn’t come easily, and when it does, it can be fragile. If the price of freedom is eternal vigilance, then the price of peace is eternal sacrifice. There is a cost to peace, and that cost is our pride. In order to maintain peace, we have to be willing to humble ourselves. We have to be willing to admit that we may be wrong. We have to be willing to recognize that whatever resentment we’re holding may be a direct result of what we’re thinking or doing. Peace doesn’t come easily, and when it does, it takes work to maintain it.

Throughout history, “God’s people” have looked to God to make things right, to establish his peace and justice, and to bless them with salvation. But time and time again, God’s answer to his own people has been “the way of peace they do not know” (Is. 59:8). Even those of us who make it our intention to learn God’s ways, to follow God’s will, and to serve God’s purpose in this world find ourselves struggling with peace. We take things personally that we have no business doing. We get our feelings hurt when someone makes a comment or does something that we take the wrong way. If we are going to live our lives in “the way of peace” it means we constantly keep learning what it means to choose peace over bitterness.

According to Zechariah, that was precisely the role John the Baptist would fulfill: he would guide people back to the way of peace. Zechariah was a man who was looking for the fulfillment of God’s promise. He lived his life in faith and hope—faith in the promises made to the ancestors and hope that God would be faithful to fulfill them. And when his son was born and his tongue was loosed, Zechariah sang a song of praise to God for fulfilling those promises. The specific way in which Zachariah saw this promise fulfilled was in the birth of his son John as a messenger to “prepare the way for the Lord.”

By fulfilling the promise to give him a son, Zechariah saw God as fulfilling the promise to redeem Israel. He calls it “the oath that God swore to our ancestor Abraham” (Lk 1:73). As you may remember that oath included blessing “all the families of the earth” (Gen 12:3). In Zechariah’s song, he foresaw John serving as the messenger of the coming Lord by bringing the people “knowledge of salvation … by the forgiveness of their sins” (Lk. 1:77). He would effect “the dawn from on high” through the “tender mercy of our God” that would bring light to those who are in darkness as well as “straightening their feet” into the way of peace (Lk. 1:78-79).

John’s mission was to prepare a people for the Lord to come and bring peace to them. His “preparation” for them was to call them to repentance. Luke’s Gospel tells us elsewhere that when John saw the crowds coming to be baptized by him, he turned them away, calling them a “brood of vipers” (Luke 3:7)! In order for them to experience the salvation of the Lord they would have to “Bear fruits worthy of repentance” (Lk. 3:8). In the words Luke quotes from the prophet Isaiah in our gospel lesson, for the people to experience God’s salvation, that which was crooked must first be made straight (Lk 3:5-6).

John was reminding them and us that repentance is more than just feeling sad or sorry for the fact that we may have done something we regret. Real, heartfelt, life-changing repentance is like trying to break a bad habit. As we all know, that rarely happens overnight. In some cases, it takes months and years of concerted effort to change our behaviors. What makes repentance so hard for us is that we have to take a hard look at ourselves: our self-indulgence, our need to control others, and our tendency to harbor bitterness and resentment.

But the “way of peace” goes further than just recognizing our shortcomings. It takes us to the point of being willing to do something about them. We have to choose to change in order to return to the way of peace. And then, in order to preserve peace, we have to put forth the effort—sometimes again and again—to maintain peace. The “way of peace” is not an easy road! It’s a hard road that takes humility, the will to change, and the strength to continue to make the necessary sacrifices. But if we would live in the “way of peace,” that’s where we start.

The way of peace is especially hard this year because so many of us are filled with fear and even anger over all the tumult and uncertainty going on. But the way of peace is a way of bearing the burdens of others rather than throwing stones. The way of peace calls us to stand for God’s justice against all the wrongs in this world. There are times when that means calling out those who are taking advantage of others, as John the Baptist did. There are other times when that means being willing to yield even when we know we’re right, as Jesus did. The thing about both of these paths to peace is that it cost John and Jesus their lives. That’s the sacrifice it takes to follow the “way of peace”: being willing to give up our lives for others.

During Advent, we look forward to the day when “all flesh shall see the salvation of God” (Lk 3:6), the new life promised to all. We look for the promise that “the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together” (Isa 40:5). As we trust in those promises and continue to hope that God will be faithful to fulfill them, our faith and hope lead us to repentance. As the prophet said so long ago, we must “make straight” all that is not right in our lives and in our world in order to live in the “way of peace.” That way is a hard one, because the price of peace is the willingness to sacrifice ourselves for others. But that hard “way of peace” leads us to life.

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[1] © Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 12/5/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Turn Back to God

 Turn Back to God

Mark 1:14-20[1]

This is the time of the year when many of us are thinking about making changes. Some want to shed a bad habit, while others want to start a new regimen. For decades, most of us have operated on the assumption that it takes about 30 days for a change to “stick.” In fact, a 2009 study found that it probably takes more like two months, and maybe even longer for some of us.[2] And, as it turns out, breaking a bad habit is likely to be harder than simply establishing a new one. Especially if that habit has been literally engrained for years. Not surprisingly, we have to have a strong motivation to put forth the effort—one that’s strong enough to keep us on track for as long as it takes to change.

The Bible is filled with calls for us to change our behavior. We often associate that with a confrontation of “sin.” And that leads us to guilt. I would have to say, however, that while guilt may motivate us to make short-term change, it’s been my experience that guilt cannot motivate us to make any kind of lasting change in our lives. And when it comes down to it, that’s what really counts—re-orienting our lives from simply fulfilling our own wants to making our faith in God the impulse for everything we do. Of course, it will take us all a lifetime to achieve that goal. Fortunately, we don’t have to do it on our own.

In our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus begins his public ministry by announcing his motivation: “the good news of God” (Mk 1:14). That may sound strange to us, but we’ve seen it before in Isaiah 61. There the “servant of the Lord” declares that he was the one “anointed” by God’s Spirit to set right all that was wrong, to relieve all suffering, and to enable all people to thrive together, equally. It was a promise of true justice and righteousness, which in the Bible means things like sharing food with the hungry, sheltering the homeless, and clothing the naked (Isa. 58:7). And the promise was that this kind of “righteousness” would spring up and flourish like a lush garden (Isa. 61:11).

You may be wondering what this has to do with our Gospel lesson. I would say it has everything to do with it. When Jesus defines the “good news of God,” he says, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near” (Mk 1:15). That might not clear things up for you. Most of us think the kingdom of God is something that comes “in the sweet by and by.” If it impacts our lives now, it only does so by offering a hope that might help inspire us to keep following Christ in our daily lives. Otherwise, I’m not sure that the “kingdom of God” plays much of a role in our faith.

But in Jesus’ ministry, the “kingdom of God” was front and center. When Jesus referred to the “kingdom of God,” he was talking about everything that God is doing in this world to set things right, to heal and restore those who are wounded and broken, and to bring peace and life to all people and all of creation! The good news that Jesus proclaimed was that through him, God had entered this world definitively to make all things new. And the story of Jesus’ ministry was one in which he spread the new life of peace and freedom that God’s kingdom creates to all he encountered.

In some ways, I’d have to admit that the “kingdom of God” remains a promise that has yet to be completely realized in this world. But the “good news of God” is that the process of making that new world a reality began with Jesus. And God is still working among us to establish his kingdom. It may be hard for us these days to see it, but I think the signs are there: wherever those who are bowed down with the burden of injustice are lifted up, there is the kingdom of God. Wherever those who are strangers living in an unfamiliar place find welcome and embrace, there is the kingdom of God. Wherever anyone who is suffering or in want or need finds comfort and support, there is the kingdom of God.

If this is God’s work, you may be wondering what we’re supposed to do about it. Jesus says, “repent and believe” (Mk. 1:15). I would say we don’t like “repentance” any more than trying to break a bad habit. To repent takes time and work. It means being aware that we’ve done wrong, acknowledging that we’ve done wrong, and deciding that we will stop doing wrong. In biblical terms, to “repent” means turning back to God. But Jesus called for more; he called for us to “believe.” We tend to view faith as something private and personal. But I would say that when Jesus told people to “believe,” he was calling them to live out their faith by aligning their lives with everything God is doing in this world.

These two responses to God’s kingdom, “repenting” and “believing,” are connected. If we are truly going to turn back to God, it will mean changing the way we live. And, like trying to change a bad habit, we have to replace what we have done in the past with something positive. That’s not something that happens just automatically. If we want to “turn back to God,” it will not only mean deciding to stop living the way we have been, it will also mean making the commitment to direct our lives toward carrying out the work that God is doing: establishing the peace, justice, and freedom that enables us all to thrive together. [3]

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[1] © 2021 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 1/24/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Phillippa Lally, Cornelia H. M. Van Jaarsveld, Henry W. W. Potts, Jane Wardle, “How are habits formed: Modelling habit formation in the real world,” European Journal of Social Psychology 40 (2010), 998–1009.

[3] Cf. Henri Nouwen, Here and Now: Living in the Spirit, 56, where he says that the deepest meaning of our history is “a constant invitation calling us to turn our hearts to God and so discover the full meaning of our lives.”

God is Coming!

 

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!

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[1] © 2020 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 11/29/2020 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

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

Stubborn

Stubborn

Psalm 95[1]

  As some of you know all too well, I can be stubborn at times. I’d like to say it’s a side effect of having a Ph. D., but if I’m honest, I’d have to admit that my stubborn streak goes way back. All the way back! When I was in High School, I got the “foot-in-the-mouth” award, because I used to argue with the Math teacher when I couldn’t see the logic of an equation. But my stubbornness goes back even farther than that! I guess the one comfort I can take in my hard-headed condition is that I think I’m not alone in that predicament. Most of us at some time or another are convinced that we know what’s best, and when we do, we can be pretty stubborn about changing our minds.

  One of the essential disciplines in the Christian faith is repentance. In order to repent, we have to be willing to let go our stubborn insistence that we are right, or that we are “in the right.” We have to be willing to admit that we have been wrong, that we have been “in the wrong,” and that we have done wrong. This kind of repentance is at the heart of observing the season of Lent. It is a time for us to examine our lives with our eyes wide open so that we can see where we have strayed in our faith journey. The purpose of repentance is not just to “feel sorry” for what we have done, but rather to make up our minds that we are going to change. That takes humility, rather than stubbornness.

  One of the themes that gets repeated over and over in the story of Israel’s people is that they were stubborn. The prophets continually rebuked them for being “stiff-necked” in their willful disobedience to God and in continually going their own way. The prophets repeatedly called the people to humble themselves and return to God. It seems to me that in order to do that, you have to repent, let go your stubborn insistence on going your own way, admit that you’re going the wrong way, and open your heart to what God is trying to do in your life.

  The Psalmist was reflecting on this aspect of Israel’s experience in our lesson for today. He was particularly talking about the wilderness wanderings, when the people complained seemingly non-stop about Moses and about God. They didn’t like being in the wilderness, and they made that clear every chance they got! They weren’t happy with the way things were going in their lives, and they rarely missed a chance to blame God, or Moses, or both.  Unfortunately, it would seem that it never even occurred to them that the root of their bitterness was within themselves, not in someone else. They simply quarreled with Moses and “tested” God (Exod. 17:2, 3). The question at the center of their quarrel was significant: “Is the Lord among us or not?" (Exod. 17:7).  

  I would offer the suggestion that they were not the first, and certainly not the last, to “test” God.  The Psalmist defines it as demanding that God prove himself to be trustworthy (Ps. 95:9). Ironically, there are numerous stories where individuals asked God for a sign or for an answer using various “tests.” But it would seem that there’s a difference between trying to discern our direction and demanding that God give us assurances that we will get out of life whatever it is that we want. One of the problems with that approach to faith is that you can never get enough proof. You always need one more test to be sure you can “really” trust God.

  The Psalmist says that the people wandering in the wilderness responded to God in this way because they were stubborn. He says that they had “hardened” their hearts (Ps. 95:8). They had closed themselves off in such a way that faith was essentially impossible. And so the Psalmist, speaking to later generations, warns them (and us) to avoid this kind of stubbornness. How then do we follow this warning? Well, it seems to me that we start where the Psalmist does. He calls to all those who would hear, saying “O come, let us worship and bow down, let us kneel before the LORD, our Maker!  For he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture, and the sheep of his hand” (Ps. 95:6-7). The place where we begin to open our hearts so that we may “listen to his voice” (Ps. 95:7) is where we humble ourselves enough to kneel before our Maker.  

  That kind of humility doesn’t come easily for those of us who have been schooled in a world where competition is the name of the game. And yet, over and over, the Scriptures call us to soften our stubborn hearts so that we can open them to the life-giving presence of God. And over and over, the way the Scriptures instruct us to begin is by humbling ourselves. We have to humble ourselves to recognize that we were “weak” and “ungodly” when Christ died for us (Rom. 5:6). It took humility for St. Paul to bow before Jesus and call the one he had opposed “Lord”! And it takes humility for us to open our hearts to God.

  Humility is difficult for most of us. But it truly is the first step toward repenting of stubbornness. When we can let down some of our defenses, and soften our hearts, then maybe we can open ourselves enough to listen, really listen to God’s voice. That’s what it takes for us to experience the change Jesus called being “born anew.” That’s what it takes for us to experience the new life of the Spirit that God wants to give us. The call to faith is a call to humility, a call to soften our hearts and open them up enough to receive the grace and the love that God wants to pour into us in such quantity that it becomes like “a spring of water gushing up to eternal life” (Jn. 4:14).

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[1] ©2020 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 3/15/2020 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Open Our Eyes

Open Our Eyes

Acts 9:1-20[1]

   Some say that the hardest thing to do is to tell another person, “I’m sorry.” And I would agree that it can be difficult to say those words. It takes humility to be able to apologize to someone we’ve offended or wronged. But as hard as it is to utter the words, “I’m sorry,” I think it is even harder to say the words, “I was wrong.” Apologizing still leaves room for the possibility that you didn’t mean any harm. Saying, “I was wrong” goes beyond that and accepts responsibility for offending someone. That can really challenge us to the core of our identity. Saying “I was wrong” can be humiliating, and painful.

   In our Scripture lesson from the book of Acts for today, we learn that Saul the Pharisee found out that he was wrong in a dramatic way. Given our general impression of St. Paul the Apostle to the Gentiles, we might find the description of Saul the Pharisee a bit shocking. The Scripture reading says that he was “breathing threats and murder” against the disciples of Jesus (Acts. 9:1)! It’s hard for us I think to imagine the same Apostle who wrote “Love is patient; love is kind” (1 Cor. 13:4) acting out such vicious hostility. Apparently, it was not enough for Saul the Pharisee that the Christians had been driven out of Jerusalem. He was on his way to Damascus to arrest them and drag them back for punishment!

   I think it may be hard for us to understand what would inspire such intense violence. In the case of Saul the Pharisee, it would appear that what he would later call “the scandal of the cross” (Gal. 3:13) was the basis for his zeal to attack believers. The fact that Jesus had been crucified constituted for Saul conclusive proof that he could not have been the Messiah. According to the Hebrew Bible, a crucified man stood under God’s curse (Deut. 21:23). So for Saul, the gospel that the crucified Jesus was God’s Messiah constituted blasphemy.[2]  In Saul’s mind, he was rounding up blasphemers for the punishment they deserved.

   But as he was on his way to Damascus to carry out his violent intentions, he met the living Christ along the way. It’s hard to tell exactly what happened because the book of Acts recounts it three times in three slightly different ways. But the dialogue makes it clear that Saul met Jesus. And Jesus was the one who had been raised from the dead and was alive forevermore, not some messianic pretender Saul thought was dead. Interestingly, when Christ confronts him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4), he replies, “Who are you, Lord?” Despite his preconceived notions, he recognized that he was dealing with some kind of divine encounter. I’m sure he was stunned to hear the answer: “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting” (Acts 9:5)!

   In that moment, I can just imagine what must have been going through Saul’s mind. He had been violently pursuing Jesus’ followers out of a conviction that they were the worst kind of blasphemers.[3] I would think that meeting Jesus on that road started his mind swirling in the most intense kind of re-evaluation of his life we could imagine. I would say that when he opened his eyes and could not see, it was symbolic of the blindness from which he had been doing things he now regretted. After all, even at the end of his life, St. Paul could still call himself the “chief of sinners” because he formerly persecuted the church (1 Tim. 1:15).

   When I think about this story, I wonder what made such a dramatic change in the life of Saul, a strict Pharisee who had been so zealous for God and God’s Torah that he had condemned the followers of Jesus to death (Acts 26:10). I think surely the fact that he came face-to-face with Jesus must have been a powerful experience. I would imagine that he felt not the anger or rejection he may have thought he deserved, but grace, mercy, and love. And above all, I think he experienced an acceptance that transcended anything he had ever known. When Ananias came to him and called him “brother Saul,” and baptized him, I think it must have affected Saul deeply. More than that, when he learned he was “an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel” (Acts 9:15), I think it must have been deeply humbling to him.

   A lot of eyes were opened in the course of these events. Saul’s eyes were opened. Jesus was not an impostor, he was truly the Messiah and Son of God, as Saul began to preach immediately after being baptized! The believers were not blasphemers for proclaiming a Gospel he now knew to be true. The eyes of many in the early church were opened to the power of God: their most violent opponent had been transformed into a brother and a fellow believer, and he proclaimed the faith he once tried to destroy. Although it took some time for the Apostles in Jerusalem to trust him, even they ultimately received Saul the Pharisee as a brother. A lot of eyes were opened indeed.

When our eyes are opened, it often involves a recognition that we’ve been wrong. That can be a hard experience. It involves admitting that we’ve been acting on assumptions that were false. It involves recognizing that we may have been in the wrong in the things we’ve done and said. All of that is humbling, and challenging. I think what makes such an experience truly life-changing is when we admit we are wrong, but find that we are accepted nevertheless. There are times when we come face to face with our wrong thoughts, words, and deeds. Hopefully when that happens, we will embrace the opportunity to have our eyes opened, and to take a different direction with our lives as did Saul the Pharisee.

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[1] © Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 5/5/2019 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. F. F. Bruce, Paul: Apostle of the Heart Set Free, 71: “A crucified Messiah was worse than a contradiction in terms; the very idea was an outrageous blasphemy.”

[3] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 3.1:199, where he says that Paul is “an opponent and persecutor of the community simply because (cf. Rom. 9:4f.) he stands for Israel, for its election and calling, for its mission to the world, for the course and development of its history as the history of salvation, and therefore for the faithfulness which is to be shown to God in the form of the faithfulness of Israel, its obedience to the Law which He has given it and its trust in the promises which He has made to it, … . He persecutes Christians because he sees that this economy of reconciliation and revelation is questioned, transcended, relativised and outmoded by them, i.e., by their proclamation of the person, work, lordship and authority of the Jesus of Nazareth rejected by Israel and delivered up by it to be crucified, by their declaration of His Messiahship, election, calling and commission, of His history as salvation history, of the demand to obey Him, to trust in the promise given in Him, to believe the Word spoken in His existence.”

Seek the Lord

Seek the Lord

Isaiah 55:1-9[1]

I’d say we’ve all been there. Someone has done something to offend us, and our first impulse is to vent. We want to justify ourselves, and cast blame on the “other.” And we want someone to confirm our insistence that we’re right and we’ve been wronged. These days the question, “who you gonna call?” can be answered by the simple press of a button on your cell phone. And if the first person doesn’t answer, surely someone down the line will, because in these days of instant gratification, “everybody lives on their phone,” right? Justification is only a phone call away.

Many of us have probably also been in the position of overhearing such a conversation. Not that we wanted to. But when you’re in a public place and somebody is going through that whole process within earshot, it’s hard not to. It’s amazing how much different the whole thing sounds from that perspective. Even the tone of voice makes it so very obvious that the “complainant” is presenting the case for his or her “innocence” in the most favorable light possible, while outlining the “guilt” of the offender in the most negative way. Unfortunately, as common as this may be, it’s probably not going to actually help us in any meaningful way. We may go away from it “feeling better.” But that’s probably not what we really need.

Our lesson from Isaiah addresses a people who have run the gamut in their relationship with God: from a self-satisfied and complacent people convinced of their own righteousness to a broken people hauled away into exile with their faith in tatters. And at every stage, the word of the Lord to the people through the prophet addressed their need. To those who were self-satisfied, the word of the Lord was one of judgment: “Keep listening, but do not comprehend; keep looking, but do not understand” (Isa. 6:9). The prophet’s calling with a people who sought to justify themselves was to “Make the mind of this people dull, and stop their ears, and shut their eyes” to keep them from turning to God and being healed (Isa. 6:10).

Although this doesn't sound much like the God of love, the problem was not with God, but with the people. God had not changed his mind or his purpose for them. It was not as if God were incapable of fulfilling the great promises he had made to the people of Israel. It was not as if God had somehow forgotten to make good on the offer of grace and mercy. The problem was that the people were convinced that they were in the right and they were innocent. When we are convinced of our own self-righteousness, we are not in a position to receive God’s grace and mercy. We have cut ourselves off from the life God offers.

But now, to a people who had been humbled by the devastation of conquest, deportation, and exile, the invitation to receive the gift of new life comes again. Those who are thirsty are invited to drink freely. Those who are hungry are invited to enjoy a lavish feast at no charge. And the only “requirement” to partake is that they be hungry and thirsty!^[2] Those who had shut their ears to the word of grace and mercy and had been prevented from finding life are now invited to “listen carefully … so that you may live” (Isa. 55:2-3).^[3] God’s grace and mercy continue to be extended even to those who may have hardened their hearts.

In order to accept this invitation, however, a change of heart is required. Rather than seeking our own “way” and clinging to our own “thoughts,” those who would accept the gift of new life through God’s grace and mercy must “seek the Lord.” In the Hebrew Bible, seeking the Lord implies giving up other paths, paths that may seem attractive and yet in reality are destructive. Seeking the Lord here means giving up the stubborn insistence that my “way” is right and my “thoughts” are true. Instead, we are to acknowledge that God’s ways are not our ways, and God’s thoughts are not our thoughts (Isa. 55:8-9). This implies that in order to seek the Lord and the life he offers us freely, we must abandon all thoughts of justifying ourselves, and we must abandon all efforts to maintain our self-righteousness.

The impulse to justify ourselves is a powerful one. Whenever we are attacked, or feel offended, or think ourselves to be otherwise slighted, it seems that the first thing we think of is how to justify ourselves. It’s a kind of defensive mechanism that almost automatically kicks in whenever we face opposition. As much as we would like to think that we are being entirely rational when we “rationalize” our way through something like that, I’d have to say that our response is primarily driven by our emotions, especially the desire to feel “right.”

But that impulse to feel “right” truly blinds us to those aspects of our own behavior and character—our “way” and our “thoughts”—that we need to examine continually. In order to accept God’s “way” of grace and mercy that bring new life, we have to acknowledge that our “way” and our “thoughts” fall short. Beyond that, especially when they indulge our desire to be “right,” our “way” and our “thoughts” prevent us from hearing the offer of grace and accepting the gift of new life. The Scripture calls us to repent: to “forsake” that path and seek the Lord instead. When we do so, we find an open invitation to receive the gifts of grace and mercy and new life God offers us all freely.

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[1] © 2019 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 3/24/2019 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Paul D. Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 177; cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, The Spirit of Life: A Universal Affirmation, 283.

[3] Cf. Christopher R. Seitz “The Book of Isaiah 40-66,” New Interpreters Bible VI:482.

Corrective Steps

Corrective Steps

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

I’m told that when I was born, both of my feet were turned to the right. In the early 60’s, the solution the doctors recommended was to have me wear two left shoes. What they did not know is the effect that would have on my body. All of my life, I’ve had problems with my right ankle and knee. Any sports that involved running were a challenge for me. I must add that the “corrective steps” the doctors applied to my feet must have done some good. They did enable me to walk! I have had to take further “corrective steps” as an adult. As a serious bicyclist, I found it helped to get fitted for custom orthotics. These days, my practice of yoga has benefited me greatly. The stances we do in yoga have probably helped the most in strengthening my right leg.

At some point in our lives, most of us will be advised to take corrective steps with some facet of our health. Some of those measures bring relief. Others may be a nuisance, or even downright unpleasant. Many of us know that some corrective steps doctors recommend can actually debilitate the patient. The treatment for cancer can be like that. Chemotherapy and radiation treatments are meant to kill the cancer, but they don’t have the ability to discriminate between malignant and healthy cells. The treatment for some diseases can be quite burdensome. Although the goal is to heal the body, the steps taken can be quite painful.

Our Scripture lessons for today address “corrective steps” that were needed among the people of Israel. In this respect, they don’t seem to fit the season of Advent. More than that they seem to be in tension with each another. Malachi speaks of one who will prepare the way for the Lord in fearful tones, warning of judgment. The song of Zechariah in Luke’s Gospel joyfully welcomes the birth of John the Baptizer as the one to go before the Lord. If you find yourself puzzled, you’re probably not alone. A pastor friend of mine mentioned to me this week that these were not her favorite texts to preach! How does judgment go together with salvation?

The prophet Malachi addresses the people of Judah at a time of disillusionment and complacency. It was some time after the exile in Babylon, and they were weak, poor, and relatively disorganized. That their commitment to God was failing can be seen from some of the practices that Malachi criticizes. It would seem that they had placed all their hopes in God to intervene. And so Malachi promised that God would indeed send a messenger to prepare for him to come to the people.

Although this was the focus of their hope, they thought of the Lord’s coming solely in terms of their deliverance. But Malachi speaks pointedly about some things that needed to be corrected in order for that deliverance to take place. He warns that God would come to judge those who were faithless, those who broke the bonds of fidelity, those who distorted the truth. He would come to judge “those who defraud laborers of their wages, who oppress the widows and the fatherless, and deprive the foreigners among you of justice” (Mal. 3:5). All of these practices directly contradicted specific instructions God had given his people in the Torah. The fact that failed to obey these instructions demonstrated, according to Malachi, that they did not truly honor the Lord with their lives. And so Malachi speaks of the one who would come in ominous tones, asking “who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears?” (Mal. 3:2).

This seems quite a contrast to the joyful song of Zechariah about his son, John the Baptizer. Zechariah viewed his son as one who would prepare the way for the Lord in that he would “give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness of their sins” (Lk. 1:77). He saw the birth of John as the dawn of the “tender mercy of our God” that would bring light to those in darkness and guide the people to walk in “the way of peace” (Lk. 1:78-79). On the surface of things, it seems difficult if not impossible to reconcile these two visions of the one who would prepare the people for the Lord’s coming.

And yet, when you look at John’s ministry, you find that he sounds more like the messenger of judgment Malachi describes than the bringer of salvation and forgiveness. Luke’s Gospel tells us elsewhere that when John saw the crowds coming to be baptized by him, he turned them away, calling them a “brood of vipers” (Luke 3:7)! In order for them to experience the salvation of the Lord they would have to “Bear fruits worthy of repentance” (Lk. 3:8) by making some of the very same corrections that Malachi addressed in his day. How could this message of judgment and the call for a radical change of life have anything to do with salvation? In the words Luke quotes from the prophet Isaiah, for the people to experience God’s salvation, first that which was crooked must be made straight (Lk 3:5-6). The corrective steps that might sound harsh were intended to lead the people to once again love the Lord their God with all their hearts. Then they would know the salvation for which they had hoped so long.

As we celebrate our Lord’s coming to live among us on that first Christmas long ago, so we can also look forward to his coming again to complete the work of salvation. But we must remember that in order to experience God’s salvation, all of us will have to undergo some kind of correction. That which is crooked within us must be straightened out. The ways in which we live our lives that do not honor God will have to be purged, and that may be painful. There are “corrective steps” that we all need to take in order to truly love the Lord our God with all our hearts and truly love our neighbors as ourselves. But the end result of these corrective steps is that, on that final day, “all flesh will see the salvation of God!”

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[1] ©2018 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 12/9/2018 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Changing Allegiance

Changing Allegiance

Mark 1:14-20[1]

When we hear the word “allegiance” I think most of us associate it with our attitude toward our country. “Allegiance” is something that we pledge to the USA as people who intend to carry out the fundamental privileges and responsibilities of citizenship. But I think our “allegiance” relates to more than just whether we vote and pay taxes. In fact, I would say that there are other matters that claim our allegiance in deeper ways. For some of us, it may be allegiance to our family. For others, it may be allegiance to a life dream. For still others, it may be allegiance to certain values. What we may not realize in all of this is that Jesus’ message about the “kingdom of God” presents us with a challenge regarding our ultimate allegiance.

Unfortunately, I would have to say that Jesus’ “gospel” that “the kingdom of God has come near” is a message that we struggle to grasp. For example, if you asked most people these days whether the kingdom of God is here, I think most of them would say no.  In fact, I had some seminary students who did a survey of random people asking them that very question.  And everyone they met gave the same answer—no, the kingdom of God is not here.  I guess that’s why we have a hard time with Jesus’ “gospel.”

Part of the problem is that we just don’t get the whole “kingdom” bit.  For us, a “kingdom” is a place where people suffer the injustice of having their basic civil rights denied them.  Kings are tyrants who enrich themselves at the expense of their people.  Kings exploit, they oppress, they enslave.  But the “kingdom of God” has nothing to do with that.  According to the Bible, when the “kingdom of God” comes the whole world will “do God’s will on earth as it is in heaven.” Everyone will enjoy life the way it was intended by God in the first place.

Another problem we have with Jesus’ message that “the kingdom of God has come near” is that we think he’s talking about something out there somewhere. In our lesson for today, the phrase “has come near” causes no small confusion. If something is near, that doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s here. And so it’s easy to think for that Jesus was talking about God’s kingdom being around the corner. It is true that in some respects Jesus pointed to the final fulfillment of God’s kingdom at some point in the future. But Jesus also made it abundantly clear that his mission was to bring the “kingdom of God” among us in the here and now, not somewhere out there.  

I think our most important problem with this message is that we don’t really know what to do with it. If it’s God’s kingdom then Jesus’ “gospel” is primarily about what God is doing in this world. In biblical terms, what that means is that prisoners are set free, the blind receive their sight, those who are bowed down are lifted up, those living in a foreign land have someone to look out for them, and widows and orphans find comfort and support. Simply put, God’s kingdom makes it possible for everyone to thrive—rich and poor; white, black, brown, and yellow; tall and short, thin and overweight, nearsighted and balding, young and old.  It does not discriminate based on race, creed, color, or national origin.  It does not exclude anyone based on gender, age, disability, or political affiliation. God’s kingdom is for all people equally.

But that may still leave us asking what we’re supposed to do about “the kingdom of God.” In our lesson for today, Jesus answers that question: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news” (Mark 1:15). Now, I think we are typically comfortable with the idea of “believing” in God, or in Jesus, or in the good news of God’s kingdom. But that word “repent” is another story. I would dare say that we may not feel comfortable with “repenting.” In fact, we may not like it at all!

It might help us to see that Jesus was calling people to open themselves to God’s presence and his work among us to set things right, to heal and restore those who are wounded and broken, and to bring peace and life. In order open ourselves to God and his work, we have to start by recognizing that we may have been doing things the wrong way. But repenting means more than just admitting we’ve been wrong. It means actually doing something to make things right. For that to happen, I believe we have to change the core allegiance of our hearts.

Whether we like it or not, God’s kingdom confronts us with a choice about where our ultimate allegiance lies. At the most basic level, “repenting and believing” in the kingdom of God means aligning our lives with what God is doing in this world.  It means living out the principles and truths of God’s kingdom every day. That starts with the kind of people we choose to be, but it also extends to what we actually do. The coming of God’s kingdom into this world presents us with a life-changing choice.  It means choosing not to continue pursuing the selfish ways of this broken world, even when it’s running around pretending to be Christian. It means giving our ultimate allegiance to God’s kingdom, and to the peace, justice and freedom it brings to us all.

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[1] ©2018 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 1/21/2018 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.