Showing posts with label Self Sacrifice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Self Sacrifice. Show all posts

Saturday, May 09, 2026

The True Meaning of Obedience

 The True Meaning of Obedience

Isaiah 53:1-12[1]

One of the greatest challenges we may face in this life is undeserved suffering. It’s not hard to find plenty of examples. Especially with all the pain and suffering in this world inflicted by violence! In fact, if we pay close enough attention, we might be overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of people who live with suffering that they didn’t do a thing to deserve. This can call into question our faith in God’s grace and mercy and love at its very core. We see that innocent people who put their faith in God the most are often the ones who suffer the most, and it’s a hard pill to swallow. And unfortunately, many good people lose their faith in a loving God because it’s all so overwhelming.

Our lesson from Isaiah is perhaps one of the best-known descriptions of undeserved suffering in the Bible. It’s one of several “Servant Songs” in Isaiah, where the prophet proclaims the role of the “Servant of the Lord” in carrying out God’s purposes. The “Servant” is the one who will set things right for those who have been oppressed (Isa. 42:1-4). The “Servant” will bring “light” to restore Israel, but also to grant the “nations” salvation as well (Isa. 49:1-6). In this chapter, the “Servant” takes the sufferings of “the many” on himself to fulfill God’s purpose to bless us all with salvation.

The “Servant of the Lord” in this passage willingly offers himself to endure undeserved mistreatment for the sake of others. As the Scripture puts it, “He was painfully abused, but he did not complain. He was silent like a lamb being led to the butcher, as quiet as a sheep having its wool cut off” (Isa 53:7, CEV). Unfortunately, for all his pain and suffering, he was despised by the very people for whom he was suffering. Again, the Scripture puts it this way, “He was hated and rejected; his life was filled with sorrow and terrible suffering. No one wanted to look at him. We despised him and said, ‘He is a nobody!’” (Isa 53:3, CEV).

As I’ve mentioned many times, in those days anyone who suffered was thought to have done something to deserve it. The idea was that if you obey God, you’ll be “blessed.” But if you’re suffering in any way, you must have done something wrong. But our lesson from Isaiah shows us that sometimes people suffer unjustly, like the “Servant of the Lord.” And all too often when they do so, those who benefit from their suffering may misjudge them. Isaiah puts it this way: “He suffered and endured great pain for us, but we thought his suffering was punishment from God” (Isa 53:4, CEV). And it also says, “Others thought he was a sinner, but he suffered for our sins and asked God to forgive us” (Isa 53:12, CEV). All too often, those who suffer for the sake of others are judged harshly for it!

One of the challenges this passage presents is the idea that somehow an “angry God” made Jesus suffer in this way to satisfy a need to punish us for our sins. But the image of God as a punishing God is a scary one in a world where there’s so much abuse and violence. If God is angry and punishing, perhaps he’s not much different from someone who’s violent and abusive. Simply put, I don’t think that’s the point of Isaiah 53. I think the point is that God’s “Servant” is called to suffer on behalf of others because that’s what God does. God suffers for us! The God who never quits loving us is a God who suffers for us and with us. That’s what our Study Catechism says: “In Jesus Christ God suffers with us, knowing all our sorrows. In raising him from the dead, God gives new hope to the world. Our Lord Jesus Christ, crucified and risen, is himself God’s promise that suffering will come to an end, that death shall be no more, and that all things will be made new.”[2] The idea is that  it’s precisely through his suffering on the cross that Jesus accomplished all of this. And it was all what God desired for us all.

What we see when we look at Jesus on that cross is God’s love poured out for us, taking on all the pain and suffering of the world. God takes that suffering on himself precisely because it’s the only way to truly set things right in a world of violence and injustice. And the reason for it was that we might find God right in the middle of it all, using the undeserved suffering of the one who served him best to create new life. It’s one of the great mysteries of our faith. We see in Jesus a “suffering servant” who is willing to fulfill God’s love for us even when it leads him to a humiliating death on a cross.

I think that puts the undeserved suffering in our world in a whole different light. Our Scripture lesson speaks of the “Servant’s” willingness to suffer for others what he didn’t deserve. It says it this way in the Contemporary English Version: “By suffering, the servant will learn the true meaning of obeying the LORD” (Isa 53:11, CEV). The prophet Isaiah tells us that the experience of the “Servant of the Lord” who suffered for the benefit of others without deserving it was “the true meaning of obeying the LORD”! Instead of expecting obedience to lead us to God’s “blessing,” in the example of Jesus, we see “the true meaning of obedience”: the willingness to fulfill God’s purpose even and especially when it leads to undeserved suffering.

That can turn our whole approach faith upside-down. I’ve never been in the military, and I’ve never been in combat. I have a son who was in combat in Iraq. I had a friend in college who had been in combat in Vietnam. What I know from talking to my friend and talking to my son is that those who have gone to war were giving their lives for their friends. They were “suffering,” they were making at times great sacrifices for the sake of their friends. There are all kinds of political interpretations of the wars we get into as a country, but when it comes right down to it, soldiers in combat are fighting for the lives of their friends. I think that’s a great illustration of this very idea of the undeserved suffering that some take on themselves for the sake of others.

Most of us practice our faith for the reward we’ll get from it. But Jesus calls us all to take up our cross and follow him. I think that means that if we’re truly going to obey God, we may very well find ourselves undergoing undeserved suffering of our own for the sake of others. Instead of expecting to be rewarded for our efforts to obey God, Jesus’ example points us in a very different direction. His example shows us that the “true meaning of obedience” is to carry out God’s purposes in this world, no matter what it may cost us. That may not be what we want to hear. It’s a tall order for us to fulfill. But it seems to me that when we read this passage from the prophet Isaiah through the lens of Jesus’ death on the cross, we can rest assured that if our obedience to God leads us to undeserved suffering for the sake of others, we can do so in the assurance that we’re taking part in God’s work of renewing and restoring and redeeming this world and all of us in it. It doesn’t make it any easier. But our Scripture lesson reminds us that when we do suffer in this way, there’s a meaning and a purpose to it. There’s something greater that we’re giving our lives for. Our lesson for today suggests that’s the true meaning of obedience. Not obeying for the sake of a reward, but obeying for the sake of fulfilling God’s purpose for all people in this world.



[1] © Alan Brehm 2026. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 4/2/2026 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. “The Study Catechism,” 1998, q. 14.

Sunday, September 21, 2025

Not Too Difficult?

 Not Too Difficult?

Luke 14:25-35[1]

Like many of you, I do love a challenge. I’ve recently decided to start taking guitar lessons again. I took them 20 years ago, and learned to play guitar solos from classic rock songs and chord melodies from Jazz standards. Over 20 years, you can forget a lot. It’s a bit humbling to start over again, but that’s life. I’ve tried to keep up on my own, but you just learn more, and more quickly, when you have a teacher you have to meet with on a regular basis. I’ve always been that way about loving a challenge. I took all the “hardest” professors in college, just to prove to myself I could. I’ve tried to read the books that have been considered “difficult.” And in the middle of working on my PhD dissertation, I took my family to Germany for a year of study abroad. One of the reasons I did that is because one of my professors encouraged me to do so. He believed I would be up for the challenge. Some, perhaps many, might call taking a wife and two small children overseas “crazy” rather than stepping up to a challenge. But for me, it made a significant difference in my ability to step outside the box I had been living in when I was working in the Baptist world. I don’t regret that, and I don’t think I’ll ever regret rising to a challenge.

In our Scripture lesson from Deuteronomy for today, Moses encourages the people of Israel that the challenge of obeying God’s commands and following God’s ways was not “too difficult” for them. Rather, he urged them to follow the inclinations of their hearts. He believed that if they only followed the voice inside that was telling them what was right, they would be able to live up to the challenge he presented to them. Unfortunately, the history of the people of Israel demonstrates that it’s not quite that simple. Because along with the voice of conscience telling us what is right to do, we all have other voices. Especially the voice that tells us to do whatever we please. It’s a voice that tells us to take the easy way out and just avoid having to do what’s difficult. Then Jesus came along and did the most difficult thing. He gave up his life in obedience to God’s will, and then he called us to follow him in that same path! I’m not sure we always fully appreciate just how difficult that is for us to do in our daily lives.

I think our Gospel lesson from Luke illustrates that difficulty. The call to follow Jesus is one that demands that we shape our whole identity based on the kingdom of God. It’s a call to a way of life that defines all of life. Of course, none of us starts out there in our faith journey. Most of us start out simply hoping to have a better life here, and in the afterlife a home in heaven. But Jesus spoke about something more: about the kingdom of God that is in the process of changing all things and all people here and now. Most of us don’t start out with that in mind. If we continue to seek God’s kingdom, however, we will have to face a call that claims our whole lives, just like it did Jesus’ life.

One of the reasons why this can be difficult for us is because we don’t have to face the likelihood that following Christ will mean the loss of family ties, being cast out of our circle of friends, or even being stripped of the means of making a livelihood. We celebrate the fact that in this country we’re free to embrace our faith without suffering the hardships that many people have suffered for Christ throughout history, and many others still suffer to this day. It’s good to have the freedom to worship according to our conscience. But I think it makes it harder for us to appreciate how difficult it is to follow as our “Savior” and our “Lord” one who suffered a humiliating death.

I believe our Gospel lesson for today places this question front and center. In fact, it’s hard to avoid when you read this passage and really listen to it. It’s one of the hardest things Jesus ever said. Some of what Jesus says here about what it means to follow him can sound pretty harsh to us. Because of the difficulty of this passage, it’s easy to miss the “forest” for the “trees.” I think the point is that Jesus is calling us to shape our whole identity, from the roots up, around our commitment to following him and to seeking God’s kingdom. It’s a call to a way of life that defines all of life. And that means being willing to “leave everything behind,” at least to let go of it in our hearts.

Right off the bat we hear the challenge: Jesus says, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple” (Lk 14:26)! Cannot be my disciple! It’s just plain jarring to hear. As is often the case with difficult passages of Scripture, we have to look elsewhere to gain the proper perspective. I don’t believe that Jesus wanted anyone to literally “hate” their families, or that he wanted anyone to literally “hate” themselves. But I would say that we have plenty of evidence that the Christians for whom Luke’s Gospel was intended actually went through this kind of thing. Their choice to follow Jesus literally put them at odds with their families. Their choice to follow Jesus meant they had to leave everything behind.[2]

Jesus follows this up with another hard demand, “Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple” (Lk 14:27). For us, the cross is a symbol of our faith. We decorate it with flowers and make jewelry out of it. But no one in the First Century would have made jewelry out of a cross. It would make about as much sense as making jewelry out of a hangman’s noose. There was nothing “pretty” about the cross in the First Century. We’re familiar with the sentiment of “taking up our cross,” because Jesus had earlier called those who would follow him to “deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23). I’m just not sure we understand what it means for us to take up our cross. After telling them that his path of seeking God’s kingdom was going to lead him to die on the cross, he called them to follow a similar path. He called them to “take up your cross daily.” Again, I think this brings us back to what it will cost us to follow Jesus: our very lives, and more than that, all of life.

Perhaps even more difficult for us is that Jesus sums up what it means to follow him by saying, “none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions” (Lk 14:33). This is not so much offensive as it seems downright impossible. Who can afford to give up everything they own? But perhaps the idea here is broader than just our “possessions.” Some translations say, “none of you can be my disciple unless you give up everything you have” (GNT). That’s the way older versions translated this passage. I think it’s more to the point: Jesus calls us to leave everything behind just as he did the first Apostles (Lk 5:11, 18). I think that means holding everything we have “loosely,” recognizing that it belongs to God anyway, and holding it with the freedom of offering it all back to God to use however he pleases. Jesus calls us to a way of life that defines all of life. And that means letting go of everything else. We may still “have” it, but we don’t “hold” it so tightly. It doesn’t define us.

I don’t believe that Jesus wanted anyone to literally “hate” their families or themselves. That makes no sense! I also don’t believe Jesus expected everyone who follows him to literally become a martyr for their faith, although many have done so. I believe that Jesus made the shocking statements in this passage to make clear that the kind of demands it would take for people to follow him would claim their whole lives. He was calling people to shape their whole identity based on the way of living he demonstrated for them. And he said that it was nothing short of leaving everything behind for the sake of the kingdom of God. And he used the shocking language of this passage to impress upon all who would follow him how difficult it would be to actually do that.

Jesus calls us to a way of life that defines all of life. And here we learn that “leaving everything behind” to follow Jesus applies not just to the first disciples, but to us all. That’s difficult for us to hear. We begin our faith journey hoping that it will make for a better life for us. When we hear something like this it may sound like Jesus is taking all that away. Because it doesn’t fit in with our approach to faith, we may be tempted to ignore it. But we cannot do that! Although they are difficult for us to hear, I believe we must pay attention to Jesus’ demands in this passage. The fact that they are so difficult for us to hear today, and they probably always will be, makes this passage so important. They create a tension that I think is purposeful on Jesus’ part. It was meant to draw us continually deeper into our commitment to following Christ. I’ve been reading this passage personally, professionally, and academically for over 40 years, and it continues to challenge me to this day. I hope it continues to challenge you as well. I think that’s the point: these demands continually call us to follow Jesus in a way of life that defines all of life. That means continually learning what it means for us to leave everything “behind,” to let everything go, for the sake of the kingdom of God! Perhaps Moses was right in that this means we have to seek to put into practice what our hearts are telling us is right, even and especially when the whole world may be telling us it’s wrong! But despite what Moses said about it being “not too difficult” for us, I think that’s always going to be difficult.



[1] © 2025 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 9/7/2025 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ, 204, where he expresses the value of the decision to follow Jesus in discipleship: “Anyone who participates in ‘Christ’s sufferings’” becomes a witness “to the coming truth against the ruling lie, to coming justice and righteousness against the prevailing injustice, and to coming life against the tyranny of death.” This by definition sets those who follow him at odds with the current status quo.

Tuesday, February 27, 2024

Laying it All Down

Lay It All Down

Mark 8:34-35[1]

We all have burdens we carry through our lives. All of us have obligations that we have to meet, responsibilities to attend to, tasks that we need to look after. That’s just a normal part of life. But many of us have other burdens we carry as well. We may carry the burden of expectations that were placed on us at a young age. Those expectations may have taken the form of a “script” or a “plan” for our lives that our loved ones hoped, or perhaps even demanded, that we fulfill. They may have seen us as the ones to carry on the family legacy, and they may have had very specific ideas about what that should look like. We may carry other burdens, like the shame or guilt for mistakes we’ve made for which we just can’t seem to forgive ourselves. We may carry the burden of thinking “if they really knew me, they wouldn’t accept me.” I think that one is more common than we may know.

We have other burdens that we carry as well. We enter our lives with our own hopes and dreams about the path life will take and what life will or will not bring our way. Those of us who have been around the block more than a few times know that life has a way of frustrating our “plans.” Rather than a straight line from beginning to end, the course of our lives usually includes all kinds of detours, missed turns, wrong turns, backtracking, and just plain getting stuck. That can be a problem for us if we’re desperately clinging to our plans. More than that, when life takes us down roads we never dreamed of, or perhaps we could only imagine in our worst nightmares, if we cling to our plans as if that’s the way our lives “have” to unfold, we will likely find ourselves discouraged and perhaps even embittered. When we close ourselves to the possibility that good things may come from paths we didn’t expect, our hopes and dreams can become shackles that bind us.

This may seem like a strange way to introduce our Gospel lesson for today. After all, in our lesson today Jesus not only announces that his path of obedience to God would lead him to die on a cross. He also tells all who would follow him that they must “deny themselves and take up their cross” (Mk 8:34). Just as we discussed with Jesus’ call to repentance last week, I’m not sure we even understand what Jesus is asking of us when he calls us to follow him. In our culture, “being a Christian” can simply be part of our identity as Americans. Some of us view faith as a means of getting all that we want out of our lives: comfort, happiness, status, and security. In a setting where people “select” churches like they are picking out a new car, and where they selectively participate only to get what they want out of it, I seriously doubt that we can even hear what Jesus is saying when he calls us to “deny ourselves and take up our cross.”

Our problem starts with “denying ourselves.” That call goes completely against the dominant message of our culture. In our consumer-driven culture, we’re told we “deserve” the best, and that we “owe it to ourselves” to make sure we get it. That’s pretty much the basic message behind the whole advertising industry, from Superbowl ads to local business appeals on the evening news. The basic premise is that “you’re worth it,” so you “deserve” to “treat yourself” with everything you want. And we’ve made it easy for you to get it—no payments until 2030! So when Jesus calls us to “deny ourselves,” it just doesn’t compute. As a child of this culture, I must confess I’ve wrestled with how to communicate what this means to us. The best answer I can come up with is that Jesus calls us to let go of our own aspirations, our own hopes and dreams for our lives, or even the very notion that life is “supposed” to bring us all that we could want or ask for. More than that, I think Jesus is calling us to lay down our preoccupation with our own welfare, to let go of the basic orientation that makes ourselves the focus of our lives.

Now, I’m aware that this is difficult for us to even hear, let alone comprehend or actually embrace as a way of living. It just seems wrong not to make “self” the center of our lives. But I wonder if in fact Jesus may be onto something that eludes us. I wonder if perhaps our very preoccupation with “self” isn’t one of those things we cling to that become shackles that burden us. Think about it; we like to hear Jesus calling us to “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Mt 11:28-30). That invitation sounds a lot more appealing than the one in our lesson from the Gospel of Mark for today to “deny yourself and take up your cross.”

But I wonder whether they may be more alike than we think. Jesus goes on to say in our lesson for today that “those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it” (Mk 8:35). I’m not sure Jesus would say it this way, but in our day and time I think “losing your life” can mean laying down the burdens we carry when we box ourselves into the trap of making “me, myself, and mine” the center of our universe. When we get trapped in the prison of our own interests, our own wants, or what “I” deserve, it becomes a place that robs us of the very life we’re clinging to so desperately. I think what Jesus was trying to say is that in fact the only way “save your life,” the only way to truly live, is to give yourself away for the sake of others. I think he may be calling us to lay down all the things we cling to so tightly in that small place of “I” and open ourselves to the people around us in compassion, understanding, and love. Of course, there is a balance to be struck here between a healthy sense of self and giving ourselves away for others. We can go too far in both directions.

Giving ourselves away for the sake of others brings us to the part about “taking up your cross.” Again, I’m not sure we can hear how shocking that must have been to Jesus’ disciples at that time. They had seen many of their people brutally executed on crosses. In their ears, “take up your cross” must have been even more difficult for them to hear than “denying yourself” is for us. It might have been like calling us to “take up your hangman’s noose.” But he was pointing them to his own example. He had just told them that his path of obedience to God was going to lead him to his death. And he proceeded to call them to follow him on that path. And, in fact, there have been many who have followed Jesus to the point of giving up their lives.

Most of us don’t live in a situation where we literally have to give up our lives to follow Jesus. But I think we can still learn something about what it means to “take up our cross.” On the cross, Jesus set the prime example of what it means to love others enough to lay down your life for them (cf. Jn 15:13). It’s not likely we’ll be called on to do that by literally dying. But laying down our own interests, our own wants, our own hopes and dreams for the sake of others is a path that we can all take. Just as with repentance, “denying yourself and taking up your cross” is not easy. I don’t think it’s a way of living that comes easily to any of us. In fact, I would say that it will take us a lifetime to learn what it means to truly lay down your “life” and give yourself away for the sake of others. And even then we won’t have it all down.

As we continue observing the season of Lent, I hope we realize that the kind of sacrifice Jesus calls us to make for the sake of our faith has nothing to do giving up meat or chocolate for 6 weeks. If we would follow Jesus on the path to the cross during this time, he’s going to call us to go far beyond that. He’s going to call us to lay down our very lives for the sake of others. But the “good news” in this seemingly demanding call is that it is precisely as we “lay down” our lives that we truly find life. As we let go all our expectations and plans, as we let go all our hopes and dreams, we may discover that they were the very things keeping us from the life we were looking for. As we lay it all down and follow Jesus on the path of giving ourselves away for the sake of others, we truly “find” our lives.



[1] ©2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 2/25/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, January 30, 2024

Not Just About Me

 Not Just About Me

1 Corinthans 8:1-13[1]

Most of us have lived our entire lives during great upheaval. That turmoil began with the sweeping social and political changes in the 1960’s and 70’s. In those days people began questioning everything from morality to economics to religion to government. To be sure, there had been those who marched to a different drum beat before that time. But in those days it seemed like everyone was willing to cross all the formerly recognized boundaries in their quest for personal “freedom.” Scandals like the Pentagon Papers and the Watergate burglary only added fuel to the fires that were already burning. To those who were committed to traditional values, it was a time when the accepted standards began to break down. To those who saw the status quo as unjust, hypocritical, and biased to benefit the powerful few, it was a time of righting social wrongs. In a very real sense, our society has been wrestling with this fundamental divide ever since.

One of the questions that is at the heart of this struggle has to do with morality. It’s the question of how you know what’s right from what’s wrong. There have always been those who advocated certain absolute rules that represented lines that were never to be crossed. And I think most people would agree that there are some things that are never right under any circumstances. It’s never right to harm someone who is weaker than yourself simply because you have the power to do so. It’s never right to enrich yourself by taking unfair advantage of others, especially those who are most vulnerable in our society. But, as the scandals of our era have sadly demonstrated, many of those who are the most vocal supporters of traditional values don’t practice what they preach.

Because the voices that supported traditional values so blatantly ignored them in their own lives, many have simply decided that there is no absolute right or wrong. If it seems right to you, then it is, regardless of what anyone else may say. In my day, the way people put it was “if it feels good, do it.” But of course, the real point was “if it feels good to me.” Again, I think it’s clear that we as a people have made progress over the last several decades toward recognizing the rights of those who had long been denied justice. But in the process, morality became personal and private, which didn’t actually make things any more just or fair. It merely opened a pandora’s box of self-indulgence. In the name of “rights” we as a people have claimed that we can do whatever we please. And the result has been lives broken by moral license, selfishness that approaches narcissism, epidemic levels of substance abuse, and greed for ever more power and wealth. And all of this without any concern for how our actions affect anyone else.

Of course, there are many who continue to make a sincere effort to try to do what’s truly right. But it gets complicated. Take, for example, the commandment “You shall not kill.” That seems pretty straightforward. It seems like an absolute boundary that no one should ever cross. I would say we could all agree that it’s absolutely wrong to murder someone in cold blood. But it’s not so clear when a person kills someone in self-defense or in the course of saving the life of another. It’s still a “violation” of the commandment, but as a society, we consider it to be “justified.” I’ve never been there myself, but I would say that anyone who has ever had to take a life in the line of duty, whether soldiers at war or officers keeping the peace, would agree it affected them profoundly, even though it was the right thing to do in that situation.

All of this is a way of getting into the lesson from 1 Corinthians for today. The first Christians lived in a world of competing moral standards, no less that we do. And it wasn’t always clear to them what the right thing to do was in every situation. St. Paul addresses one of those situations. Because the believers in Corinth lived in a world that was dominated by the worship of pagan idols, the question of how to remain true to God and avoid idolatry, which was another of the Ten Commandments, wasn’t always clear in that setting. The Hebrew Bible goes to great lengths to argue that idols are nothing but “smoke and hot air” (Isa 41:29, MSG). As a result, some of the believers at Corinth had decided that there was nothing wrong with taking part in a meal held in honor of a pagan god, where the main course was meat that had been offered as a sacrifice to that god. After all, as Paul himself could say, “we all know that an idol is not really a god and that there is only one God” (1 Cor 8:4, NLT). If that’s the case, then it’s just another meal.

But the problem was that those who were confident in this “knowledge” weren’t thinking about other believers who weren’t so confident. Many of the Christians in Corinth had lived their whole lives believing that the pagan gods were indeed real, and that the sacrifices made to them were a way of acknowledging their influence. For them, a meal held in honor of a pagan god was a violation of the commandment to avoid idolatry. But if they saw other believers partaking in those meals, they may have become confused and decided to partake in an idol feast themselves. But because of their upbringing, they would likely feel convicted that they had sinned by breaking the commandment by being unfaithful to God. In St. Paul’s words, by exercising their freedom, those who were confident that idols weren’t real were causing the others to stumble in their faith. So he concludes, “if what I eat causes another believer to sin,” at least in their own minds, “I will never eat meat again as long as I live—for I don’t want to cause another believer to stumble” (1 Cor 8:13, NLT).

In a world with a confusing array of competing moral standards, St. Paul argued that one principle for deciding what was right from what was wrong was the question of how an action would affect others. As he said elsewhere, “live in such a way that you will not cause another believer to stumble and fall” (Rom 14:13, NLT). And the way to do that was to make love the deciding factor. In this situation, Paul himself acknowledged that idols were not real, and that there was nothing wrong with eating meat that had been sacrificed to a pagan god. But he also recognized that there was more at stake in his actions than just his own welfare. He had to consider the welfare of those who would be influenced by his actions. That’s what it means to live in the community of faith with other believers: to live in a way that benefits others, not just yourself.

There was a cost to this course of action, and I think Paul knew it. The worship of pagan gods was such a common part of everyday life that it was hard to avoid these feasts. It would be like avoiding going to a football game in our culture! To avoid those feasts would be to risk more than just a loss of social standing in the community. It would and did mean the loss of livelihood, the loss of community, and even the loss of family. Paul knew the sacrifices following Jesus involved. But despite the sacrifices, I’d say Paul thought it was worth it to safeguard the welfare of fellow believers. For him, living in a community of faith meant sacrificing your “rights” for the sake of the good of the whole community. We used to believe in that. These days, our “rights” are almost our “idols,” and we will do anything to safeguard our “right” to do whatever we please. But Paul advocates a different way. Considering how his actions affected others was a central factor in his decisions when it came to moral questions that were not straightforward or clear-cut. 

I’d like to be able to tell you that the principle of considering how your actions will affect others will make your moral choices clear and straightforward. But in the context of social turmoil in which we live, I’m not sure it’s ever possible to be completely certain of our actions. For most of us, whatever we choose to do is going to offend someone somewhere. Whether it’s what we eat or drink or what we watch or read, someone somewhere is going to think it’s wrong. To avoid offending anyone in any way, we would have to withdraw from life altogether! I think what we’re left with is doing the best we can to live our lives in a way that brings honor to Christ, not dishonor. I think what we’re left with is doing the best we can to follow his example in all our actions. I think what we’re left with is recognizing that for all of us, our decisions are “not just about me.” Knowing that, we can do our best, in so far as it’s humanly possible, to act in ways that will help others, and not harm them.



[1] ©2024 Alan Brehm.  A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 1/28/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, May 17, 2022

Giving Ourselves Away

 Giving Ourselves Away

John 13:31-35[1]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


[1] © 2022 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm Ph.D. on 5/15/2022 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Wednesday, October 20, 2021

Can You Drink the Cup?

 Can You Drink the Cup?

Mark 10:32-45[1]

I think we as a people have a hard time with suffering these days. For decades, we have tried to keep suffering “at arm’s length.” And to some extent we’ve tried to remove it from our experience of life altogether. But suffering remains a part of life, and trying to avoid it only makes it worse. Other societies recognize this and accept suffering as a “normal” part of life. When it comes, they grieve as we all do, but they don’t make it into a “catastrophe” that “should” not have happened. In a very real sense, our efforts to distance ourselves from suffering only make it worse when it comes knocking on our door.

There was a time when things were very different. Our ancestors who settled this land lived with hardships that even the strongest of us cannot fathom. My great-grandfather’s family consisted of nine siblings originally. Four of them died as children. That was simply one of the aspects of life for many families in that day. But they were proud to make the sacrifices they did because they knew that they were building a better future for their children and their children’s children. And we used to celebrate the sufferings they endured and honor them for the sacrifices they made. It’s hard to do that when we think that what’s “normal” is to avoid suffering in life.

In our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus tries to tell his disciples for the third time that he is going to undergo great suffering. And for the third time, their response reveals that they really don’t understand at all. This time it’s James and John, two of Jesus’ “inner circle” of disciples. They asked Jesus to do for them “whatever we ask of you” (Mk. 10:35)! Their request is truly astounding. They ask for the privilege of sitting at his right and left hand when he came in his “glory.” James and John, like the rest of the disciples, still thought that Jesus had come to restore the glory of David’s kingdom in all its might, wealth, and prestige. Even though Jesus had just warned them again that he was going to be condemned and beaten and killed, they simply could not hear that.

Jesus answers their request with a question of his own: “Are you able to drink the cup that I drink?” (Mk 10:38). He knows that he means the “cup” of suffering that he is soon going to undergo. They rather casually say, “We are able” (Mk 10:39)! In response, Jesus makes a rather ominous statement: “The cup that I drink you will drink”! They don’t realize it, but he’s trying to tell them again that if they want to follow him on the path that will lead him to the cross, they too must expect to suffer. In fact, Mark’s Gospel reminds us later that the ones who wound up on Jesus’ “right and left” were the two “bandits” who were crucified with him (Mk 15: 27)!

Although their request for “places of honor” was inconsistent with Jesus’ life and completely out of place in God’s kingdom, Jesus tries again to teach them. He had already taught them that if they wanted to follow him they must “deny themselves” (Mk. 8:34) and “lose their lives” for his sake (Mk. 8:35). He had also already taught them that “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mk. 9:35). Now he tries to teach them again that “whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all” (Mk 10:43-44). If they want to follow Jesus, they must be prepared to give themselves away as servants and even “slaves” of all (Mk. 10:44). More than that, they had to be prepared to “drink the cup” of suffering as he would.

And to reinforce the lesson, he once again pointed to his own destiny, that “the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (Mk 10:45). As the scripture lesson from Hebrews reminds us, Jesus “learned obedience through what he suffered” (Heb 5:8), that is, by giving his life on the cross for the sake of us all. Following him would entail no less for them. It would mean giving themselves away for others. It would mean being willing to “drink the cup” by sacrificing themselves and even suffering for the benefit of others.

We used to believe in that in our society. In fact, we had a saying for it: “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required.”[3] There was a time when we believed that the more you had, the more advantages you could count, the more you were expected to serve. The more opportunities you were handed, the more you were expected to give yourself away for the benefit of others. That seems to have gone by the wayside these days. It seems we’re more concerned about what’s in our own best interest rather than making sacrifices for others.

But maybe it’s time we try to recover the commitment to serve others sacrificially, following Jesus’ example.[3] Jesus suffered and died for us, so that we might have new life now, and a hope for a future. And he calls us to drink the same “cup” of suffering and sacrifice that he did. I guess the question we all have to face is “can you drink the cup”? Are we willing to “learn obedience” by what we suffer for the sake of others just as Jesus did? That’s the path Jesus walked, and he calls every one of us to that same path. He calls us all to drink the cup of suffering and sacrifice for the benefit of others. Being willing to do so as Jesus did is what it means to follow him.[4]



[1] © Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D., on 10/17/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Although President John F. Kennedy was famous for quoting this verse, it originated with Jesus (cf. Lk. 12:48)! See Mark Liberman, “The Tangled History of a Mangled Maxim,” http://itre.cis.upenn.edu/~myl/languagelog/archives /004100.html. 

[3] Henri Nouwen, Here and Now, 101, calls it, “the way of downward mobility, the descending way of Jesus. It is the way toward the poor, the suffering, the marginal, the prisoners, the refugees, the lonely, the hungry, the dying, the tortured, the homeless.” 

[4] Cf. Adela Yarbro Collins, Mark, 498: “servanthood and the cross are linked in the life and death of Jesus” and therefore also in the lives of those who follow him.

Monday, July 13, 2020

Losing and Finding


Losing and Finding
Matthew 10:34-39[1]
As a person who has spent a lifetime studying the Bible, it amazes me how we can “water down” what can be rather “edgy.” Jesus calls us to follow him on a path that leads to a cross, and we “filter” that message until it sounds more like “be a good person.” The measure of how much we dilute Jesus’ teachings is that nobody “lynches” someone for telling people to “be a good person.” Neither the Roman authorities nor the Jewish religious leaders would have been so threatened by Jesus for just telling people to “be good.” They used the shocking image of dying on a cross to send a message: this is what happens to people who rock the boat.
When I think about it, I guess it’s not all that surprising that we “filter” Jesus’ demands. I’ve spent a lifetime teaching and preaching the Bible, and I do it myself! We all have a “comfort level” with our lives, and we tend to stay safely within the confines of what’s comfortable. And whenever anyone comes along and threatens our safety or our comfort, we don’t typically respond very well. In fact, we don’t respond well when something causes us to move beyond what is convenient! Think about how we welcome it is when someone interrupts our leisure time. It’s certainly not for me! We have a pattern to our lives, and we like to stay in that pattern. We don’t respond well to having to change it in the least!
But Jesus called for those who would follow him to leave behind their pattern of living—including not only their leisure and convenience, but also their comfort and safety! Jesus made some demands of his disciples that we like to “filter” to make them easier for us to swallow. He told them “If your hand or your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away” (Matt. 18:8)! He said, it’s “easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God” (Matt. 19:23)! And one that may not sound hard, but in reality is probably the hardest to swallow: “many who are first will be last, and the last will be first” (Matt. 19:30)!
Our typical response to these “hard sayings” of Jesus is that we’re not supposed to take them “literally,” whatever that may mean. But when we look at our Gospel lesson for today in light of this background, I would say that Jesus had something very important to say to his disciples about the cost of following him. While I doubt he envisioned them actually maiming themselves, Jesus definitely meant what he said to them. Following him would require them to give up other aspects of their lives. That’s a message that seems to have gotten “filtered” out of our understanding of the Gospel.
In our lesson for today, Jesus speaks to some of the basic parameters of our lives: things we take for granted, like safety and family. It may be hard for us to grasp that Jesus said he came not to bring peace, but a sword. On the other hand, it’s not hard to see the division that results when someone actually dares to take Jesus at his word and does something about it! It may be hard for us to grasp that Jesus said he came to set the members of families against each other. While I don’t believe that Jesus was intending to attack the family, I think he knew that those who were serious about living out their commitment to him would find themselves separated from their families, and perhaps even cut off from them.
And so it is that Jesus tells his disciples one of the hardest things for us to comprehend: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me” (Matt. 10:37). To say that our faith in Jesus must take precedence over loving our parents or our children cuts against the grain of everything we believe. Those are some of the closest, most precious relationships we have. In some cases, we would sacrifice a great deal for those relationships. And yet, I guess the question Jesus asks us all is whether we’re willing to give up our lives and all that we cherish in them in order to follow him. That’s a tough question I’m not sure many of us are prepared to answer!
Jesus made clear what following him would mean: going to a cross.[2] In our lesson he says, “whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me” (Matt. 10:38). This may be difficult for us to hear when we use the cross for decoration. But in that day, the cross was a brutal form of “lynching,” meant to squelch opposition to the powers that be. When Jesus calls all who would follow him to a cross, he’s not talking about inconveniences, or the normal hardships of life. He’s calling us to follow his example of giving our selves away in the “love that serves others no matter how much it costs.”[3]
I believe that’s what Jesus was talking about when he said, “those who lose their life for my sake will find it” (Matt. 10:39). We find our lives truly fulfilled when we give our “selves” away in a love that serves others no matter what it costs, just as Jesus did. Unfortunately, we tend to get that backwards. We like to think that we can follow Jesus and have our lives, with all the safety and comfort, convenience and leisure we’ve come to expect. But Jesus said that when we cling to those things, we really “lose” our lives. It’s difficult to grasp, but we have to reverse our thinking to do so. Finding life, true life, happens to those who are willing to “lose” their lives in service to others.


[1] © 2020 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 6/21/2020 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
[2] Cf. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Discipleship, 84-89; esp. p. 87: “Whenever Christ calls us, his call leads us to death.”
[3] David Garland, Mark, 335.

Monday, February 11, 2019

An End to Childish Ways


An End to Childish Ways
1 Corinthians 13:1-13[1]
Children can be wonderful. The beauty of the unconditional love they give so easily is almost indescribable. Their natural exuberance for life is a joy to behold. And when they utter those magic words “I love you” for the first time, it naturally melts our hearts. At the same time, children can be challenging. After all they are people, just moving at something that can seem like the speed of light to the rest of us! And moving that fast means that they get tired and grumpy and want what they want right now! We call it being “childish,” but in reality, we can all be demanding when we get tired and grumpy!
One of the greatest challenges as a parent is to allow your children to grow up. The process begins with what we call “the terrible two’s.” For the first time they are discovering their own identity, separate from mommy and daddy. It’s hard on the parents, and it’s hard on the children. But as we help our children through the various passages from childhood to adulthood, it can be a fulfilling experience. I find that the greatest challenge for parents is to learn how to let go just enough for our children to mature in a healthy way. As they do so, we find them leaving behind their “childish ways,” and becoming responsible adults.
As we’ve been taking a look at the church at Corinth, I think we’ve found that the process of putting “an end to childish ways” is one that doesn’t necessarily happen for everybody in the same way. This troubled congregation was struggling in part because some of the members were behaving in rather “childish” ways. Some of them were insisting that they were right and all the others were wrong. Others were demanding recognition of their spiritual superiority. Others were simply doing as they pleased, without much thought to the way it would affect others in the church. Though they may have been adults, they were behaving in “childish” ways.
As we have seen, one of the causes for this childish behavior was confusion about “spiritual gifts.” These were the various abilities that Paul said the Holy Spirit had given to the members of the church in order to build it up, gifts like preaching, teaching, leadership, and service. One gift in particular was causing problems: “speaking in tongues.” While there has been some confusion about what this means, it would seem that, in this context, it was some kind of non-rational prayer language. Unfortunately, those who practiced this gift at Corinth seemed to have developed the attitude that because they could speak a “heavenly” language, they were on a higher spiritual plane than others. As we have seen, St. Paul was trying to bring some balance to the church by pointing out that all of the gifts are important for the common welfare.
In our lesson for today, St. Paul says he is showing them “a still more excellent way” (1 Cor. 12:31). I think what he means is that this way is “more excellent” than squabbling over whose “gift” is most important. In fact, he begins by stating rather bluntly that even the most impressive spiritual gifts are as useless as “a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal” if they are not practiced in the right way. And the “more excellent way” that St. Paul advocates for the church in Corinth to work together is the way of love. St. Paul’s view was that no matter how significant we think what we do may be, when it’s not motivated by love, it is “vain, selfish, [and] fruitless.” In other words, it is an example of “childish ways.”
By contrast, St. Paul describes the kind of love that he has in mind in profound terms: “Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful” (1 Cor. 13:4-5). The kind of love St. Paul advocates in our relationships with one another in the church is the kind of love that Jesus embodied. It is the kind of love that God has freely given us all. He describes it further in this way: it is a love that “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Cor. 13:7). He’s not talking about love as a feeling, but rather love as a way of life, love as a basic attitude toward others. It is a love that sacrifices for the sake of others. It is a love that is unselfish and giving and generous. It is a love that bears with others despite all their flaws and shortcomings. It is a love that goes beyond the sweet but unpredictable love that belongs to “childish ways.”
St. Paul calls us all to put “an end to childish ways” by practicing sacrificial and unselfish love. This kind of approach to relationships with others is not something that comes easily or naturally. It is a way of life that has to be taught and learned. And I will be the first to admit that it’s not something that we learn easily. While some of us may get it earlier in life, it takes a while for it to sink in for most of us. When you really pay attention to the way St. Paul describes love, it becomes painfully obvious that the process of putting an “end to childish ways” is one that takes place over a lifetime. I would have to admit that I’m still in the midst of that process. I haven’t arrived yet. But fortunately, in the church we all get to keep learning how to do this with the help of friends who are farther down the road. They offer us encouragement and hope as we continue to learn to put an end to “childish ways” and to relate to one another with a love that is unselfish and generous.


[1] © 2019 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 2/3/2019 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Monday, October 22, 2018

Giving Ourselves Away


Giving Ourselves Away
Mark 10:35-45[1]
When you look at the way we live our lives these days, it’s hard to dispute the conclusion that we as a people are to a great extent driven by our own self-interest. All around us we can see evidence of the fact that “self” exercises a powerful influence. From the way we spend our money to the choices we make about our time to the challenges of getting along with the others, “self” seems to raise it’s ugly head wherever we look. The simple truth is that we want what we want, and we don’t want anyone to stand in the way of our getting it. We are a people for whom “self” is at the center of much of our lives.
The sad fact about that is that we pursue our own wants and desires because we think that by doing so, we will find fulfillment and meaning in life. But whatever satisfaction we may gain is short-lived. When I was in seminary, I worked as a security officer for a family of billionaires. They had the money to get whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted it. But the individual families within the clan couldn’t stand to even talk to one another. Taking this approach to life misses one of the most fundamental lessons we can learn: our lives are not just about us and getting what we want. They are about much more than that. In particular, they are about serving others by giving ourselves away.
In our Gospel lesson for today, James and John, two of Jesus’ “inner circle” of disciples along with Peter, denied him in their own way with a rather audacious request. They asked Jesus to do for them “whatever we ask of you” (Mk. 10:35)! Now, he had already taught them that if they wanted to follow him they must “deny themselves” (Mk. 8:34) and “lose their lives” for his sake (Mk. 8:35). He had also already taught them that “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mk. 9:35). So  I think it’s safe to say that their request shows they had missed the point just as much as Peter had when he denied even knowing Jesus.
What they asked of Jesus is truly astounding. They ask for the privilege of sitting at his right and left hand when he came in his “glory.” James and John, like the rest of the disciples, still thought that Jesus had come to restore the glory of David’s kingdom in all its might, wealth, and prestige. Even though Jesus had just warned them again that he was going to be condemned and beaten and killed, they simply could not hear that. That doesn’t happen to the Messiah. In their minds, when the Messiah comes, he ascends to the throne of David, throws off the yoke of their enemies, and reigns forever!
This was no small favor that James and John requested. They expected him to rule over the Kingdom of God forever, and they wanted to be the ones to sit at his side. In other words, they wanted their share of the glory they expected him to receive! To grasp the audacity of this request, we only have to think about all the heroes of the faith that had gone before them: Abraham, Moses, and David, not to mention prophets like Jeremiah. And there were James and John, wanting Jesus to move them to the head of the line so they could share his spotlight. It’s hard to imagine a more selfish request.
In response, Jesus tries again to teach them. He points out how “among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them” (Mk. 10:42). The way he words this statement implies a critique of power at all levels. On the surface, it’s clear what Jesus thought about the way in which those in power throw their weight around. Beyond that, the phrase “those whom they recognize as their rulers” could be translated more literally “those who seem to rule.” That could simply mean that they’re the ones in charge. But the way Jesus worded that phrase was a strange way to put it if that were all he meant to say. It is likely that he was alluding to a significant theme in the Jewish thought of the day: the rulers of this world only “seem” to rule, because God ultimately rules over them all, and God’s rule has the last word.
I think Jesus was trying to help the disciples see through the external trappings of power and glory for the sham that it is in the light of God’s Kingdom. And so he tells them bluntly: “it shall not be so among you” (Mk. 10:43, RSV)! Once again he tries to break through all their pre-conceived notions of what he had come to do. More than that, he tries to break through their own egos to impress upon them that if they want to follow him, they must be prepared to give themselves away as servants and even “slaves” of all (Mk. 10:44). And to reinforce the lesson, he once again pointed to his own destiny—giving his life on the cross for the sake of us all. Following him would entail no less for them. It would mean giving themselves away for others.
We still seem to be dazzled by power and glory. It appeals to the selfish desires of our egos: to have whatever we want in this life. But that is not the way of following Jesus. The way of following Jesus is the way that leads to a cross. It is the way that leads to becoming the last of all, the way that leads to becoming the servant and even the slave of all. I would say that just about everything within us resists this kind of self-denial. But Jesus not only called us to give ourselves away, he also demonstrated what that looks like by laying down his own life. If we are going to follow Jesus, it means that we will have to give ourselves away. That’s not an easy path. I can guarantee you that if you choose to follow Jesus in this way you will find yourself weary and frustrated and discouraged at some point. But Jesus didn’t promise that following him would be easy. He promised that if we follow him in the path of giving ourselves away for the sake of others, we will truly find life.


[1] ©2018 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 10/21/2018 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Monday, October 01, 2018

Last of All


Last of All
Mark 9:30-37[1]
We don’t much like not being first. For most of us, there seems to be some situation or other where not being first gets under our skin. And we certainly don’t like being last. That can be downright humiliating. It’s embarrassing. We associate being last with “losing,” and most of us don’t like to lose at anything. Some of us really don’t like losing! We associate being last with being worst, and that really gets under our skin. In the right settings, the ones that really push our buttons, being last can seem like a threat to our very sense of self. That kind of threat to our well-being is something that many of us will actually fight to avoid. Being last of all is a bitter pill to swallow for most of us.
I think one reason for this is we are such a success-oriented people. The very idea of being last just doesn’t make sense to us. We assume that those who are last in this world got there because they never really tried hard enough. By contrast, most of us spend our whole lives trying to be first and best. We’re a “go big or go home” kind of people. It feels powerless to be last, and we don’t like feeling powerless. It strips us of our self-worth. It generates shame, which is more intense than guilt. Shame is the feeling there is something wrong with us at a basic level. It calls into question our very existence. Being last equates in our minds to the feeling that we’re just not good enough.
Our Gospel lesson for today brings together several episodes that may not seem to go together. It begins with Jesus, whom Peter has already confessed to be the Messiah, telling the disciples that he is going to be killed. In their minds, Messiahs don’t get killed; they conquer and liberate their people from their oppressors. The idea of a Messiah being killed simply made no sense to them. Messiah’s don’t get killed; they usher in the Kingdom of God on earth. I think when the Scripture says, “they did not understand what he was saying” (Mk. 9:32), it may be an understatement!
Hence the fact that in Mark’s Gospel, right after Jesus gives his disciples this somber news, they are engaged in an argument about “who was the greatest” (Mk. 9:34). In this context, the Scripture doesn’t specify the greatest at what. It simply says they were arguing about who was the greatest. Set alongside Jesus’ prediction of his impending death, that in and of itself seems odd. Matthew’s Gospel brings the disparity into sharper focus: there they asked Jesus outright, “Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of God?” (Matt. 18:1). It seems clearly implied that they thought the “greatest” had to be one of them! More than that, it illustrates their total lack of understand about what Jesus was trying to accomplish.
Jesus’ answer to them makes it clear that they had missed one of the most important lessons he tried to teach them: “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mark 9:35). And to emphasize the point, Jesus seeks to correct his disciples’ misguided ambition by embracing a child, and saying, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me” (Mark 9:37). We might see that as a “cute” or “warm and fuzzy” experience, because that’s the way we see children. But for most of human history children have been seen as having no value in society. They were simply mouths to feed and were put to work as soon as possible. They were the least and the last of all in that day.
But Jesus not only said to embrace the children—who represented the least and the last of all.  In Matthew’s Gospel, he told his disciples they had to become like children in order to enter the Kingdom of God (Matt. 18:3). Again, we make this “sugary sweet” by thinking he’s talking about the trusting nature of a child. But the disciples would have not found the idea of becoming like the child very inviting. The role of a child was one that was precarious in the ancient world. A child was someone to whom an adult could do just about anything and get away with it. They had no recourse, because they had no legal rights. They were the most vulnerable, the weakest, the lowest, and the last of all in the world of Jesus’ day.
In holding out children as an example for his disciples to follow, I think he was saying the same thing he had tried to teach them in many ways.  I think he was telling them that if they wanted to follow him they had to become the least, the lowest, and the last of all. That’s about as contrary to our way of life as you can get. We praise ambition and we honor those who are “winners” and those who are first. These attitudes are woven into the very fabric of the way we live our lives. But while we spend our efforts seeking to be “on top,” the “best,” and first of all, Jesus calls us to a very different path.
Jesus calls us to a path of self-sacrifice, a path of making ourselves vulnerable, a path of giving up the ambitions that call to us from this world. Instead of pushing and shoving our way into first place, Jesus calls us to a path of taking last place. It’s a path that not only leads us to care for those who are most vulnerable in society. It also leads us to take our place alongside the weakest, the lowest, and the last of all. Although it goes against the grain of everything that is instilled in us from childhood, that is the path Jesus calls us to walk if we would follow him. It’s a path that leads us to give up striving to be first and best, and instead take our place with him as servant of all, and last of all.


[1] ©2018 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 9/23/2018 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

Giving Up

Giving Up
Philippians 2:1-13[1]
I would say that we spend a great deal of effort these days trying to hold onto our expectations of what we want our lives to look like. This goes beyond the drive to make sure we have the basic needs of life. I think most of us enter the adult phase of our lives with an “ideal” or a “dream” of how we want our lives to unfold. Unfortunately, for many of us, life has a way of thwarting that ideal. Instead of living the life we’ve always wanted, we may find ourselves sitting among the pieces of our broken dreams. And the tragedy is that we’re taught to succeed in life, not to lose. Most of us don’t really know what to do with ourselves when we lose.
I would say that the typical response to this kind of experience is that we simply tighten our grip on life. We seem to think that if we hold on tighter we can keep the pieces of our life from slipping through our grasp. But that’s not how life works. Our lives seem to take a course of their own, and when we try to swim against the stream, we only succeed in making ourselves miserable. No amount of effort will enable us to control the outcomes in our lives. But this points us to one of the deeper ironies of life. It’s only when we take the risk of giving up our expectations that we can truly find the peace, contentment, and even joy that we were looking for in the first place.
I think that’s a part of what St. Paul is trying to get across in our lesson from Philippians for today. He uses the example of Jesus Christ humbling himself and literally giving up everything for us to urge the Christians of his day to adopt that way of living themselves. I believe he knew that he was asking them to do the hardest thing they would probably face in their lives. But from St. Paul’s point of view, Jesus’ sacrifice of himself for us demands of us nothing less than giving up our selfish and self-centered ways.
Paul puts it this way: “If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, … Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others” (Phil. 2:1, 3-4). As usual, I like the way Gene Peterson puts it in The Message: “If you’ve gotten anything at all out of following Christ, if his love has made any difference in your life, … Don’t push your way to the front; .... Put yourself aside, and help others get ahead. ... Forget yourselves long enough to lend a helping hand.” That means “having the same attitude that Christ Jesus had” (Phil. 2:5, NLT). It means following Jesus like you really mean it!
I think that the key to all of this is a matter of being willing to surrender the illusions we cherish of being able to control our lives. Those illusions keep us closed in, head down, and shoulders hunched as continue chasing pavements that lead us nowhere. I agree with Richard Rohr that surrender involves three aspects of our identity: “our opinionated head, our closed-down heart, and our defensive and defended body.”[2] We have to surrender the willfulness of thinking we know what’s best for us. We have to surrender the hardness with which we surround our hearts to keep them from getting hurt. And we have to surrender all of our efforts to defend ourselves against anything that would keep us from getting the life we’ve always wanted.
 That may sound rather depressing to some of us. It might seem like we’re supposed to give up all our hopes and dreams if we’re going to follow Jesus. But when we have no more hopes and dreams for life, it’s easy to fall into despair. I don’t think that’s what St. Paul had in mind. Rather, I think he had in mind embracing a different vision for our lives than the one the vast majority of the human family has always followed. Instead of seeking our own advantage no matter whom we may hurt, St. Paul held up the image of Jesus as an example of a life that “serves others no matter how much it costs.”[3] I think Paul knew that the lesson of the cross is that not only is God’s strength manifested in weakness, but also God’s life is manifested in death. And he knew that it is only by following Jesus’ example of serving others that we can find our true lives. He knew that the only way to have the life we’ve always wanted is to give up our wants and at times even our needs for the sake of serving others.
We’re not really geared towards giving up anything. Most of us will keep trying as long as we can, even if it means we wind up beating our heads against a wall. And we think of our Christian faith as a way to get what we want out of life. Dietrich Bonhoeffer reminds us that pretending to follow Christ without being willing to sacrifice ourselves and serve others cheapens God’s grace. By contrast, he says that the grace offered to us in Jesus is “costly” because “it costs people their lives; it is grace because it thereby makes them live.”[4] Following Christ demands that we give up our own wants, hopes, and dreams in order to serve others. That may sound like a raw deal. But in fact, when we actually make the choice to follow Jesus in that way, we learn that we truly find what we’ve always wanted in life only by giving it up.



[1] ©2017 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 10/1/2017 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
[2] Richard Rohr, Breathing Under Water: Spirituality and the Twelve Steps, 8.
[3] David Garland, Mark, 335.
[4] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Discipleship, 45.