Showing posts with label Suffering Servant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Suffering Servant. 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.

Tuesday, October 22, 2024

Making a Difference

 Making a Difference

Hebrews 4:14-5:10[1]

I believe most of us want to make a difference in this world. As we’re growing up, we try to figure out a way to do that with our lives. We choose a career based on our interests. Whether our job takes us in a direction that we feel like we’re actually making a difference in others’ lives, I would say that we do so just by the way we show up and treat people. Even if our job isn’t one that seems to “make a real difference,” most of us get involved in other activities like sports leagues or community clubs so that we can give back to the people around us. I think one of the challenges we face is that we have a hard time recognizing all the ways we contribute to the lives of other people. It seems to be wired into who we are as human beings to want to make a difference.

The most fulfilling experiences of my life have come from the opportunities I’ve had to make a difference in someone’s life. That’s why I started down the path of ministry at the ripe old age of 17. That’s why I’ve worked all my life to learn all I can about the Bible, Theology, History, Philosophy, and life in general. And that’s what still keeps me going over 45 years later. What energizes me is making a difference in someone’s life. It may sound strange, but that’s why I find it fulfilling to be with those who are hurting. Especially at the end of a loved one’s life. Yes, those times can be challenging and hard, but those are the times when I feel like I’m truly making a difference.

Of course, not everyone is called to be a pastor. We need all kinds of people doing all kinds of things for the world to work. But I think we all want to make a difference. One problem with trying to make a difference, however, is that when we put ourselves out there to help others, we’re putting ourselves in a position to wind up getting hurt. We’re opening ourselves to criticism, some of which may not be so fair or kind or respectful. Those who have been in a position where you’ve put yourself out there to help other people know what I’m talking about. Any time we try to make a difference in the lives of people around us, we’re at risk of our motives or our actions (or both!) being misinterpreted or perhaps even misrepresented. The bottom line is that whenever we try to make a contribution to others, we are likely going to have to endure some kind of unfair or hurtful treatment.

I think this aspect of our lives relates to our scripture lesson from Hebrews for today. It talks about how Jesus made a difference for all of us by what he did. In giving his life for us on the cross, he shows us who God is: the one who’s willing to take all the suffering of the world into himself. More than that, what Jesus did shows us what God is doing in the world: God is in the process of restoring everyone and everything. By dying on the cross, Jesus was fulfilling God’s desire for the whole human family to be restored to him. And in so doing, our lesson says that he has become the source of “eternal salvation” for all who turn to him in “trusting-obedience” (Heb 5:8-9 MSG). All that sounds good to us. But the lesson also says something that may sound strange to our ears. It says, “Even though Jesus was God’s Son, he learned obedience from the things he suffered” (Heb 5:8, NLT) That sounds more than strange. It’s shocking: why would Jesus need to “learn obedience”? Wasn’t his whole life, in fact his whole existence, one of obedience to God? So why did he have to “learn obedience”?

I think the answer has to do with what happened when the Son of God became a human being. It’s not like he was inherently willful and disobedient and had to be taught by the consequences of his actions how to obey God. The very act of becoming a human being was an expression of his obedience to God. But I think what Jesus learned was a first-hand experience of what it means to live as a fully human person.[2] And part of what that means is that anyone who wants to make a difference in the lives of others is probably going to suffer criticism, or undergo attack, or perhaps even in his case give up his life. There have been many who sought to make a difference in this world who have given up their lives because of it. In his obedience to God, Jesus had to learn what human suffering is like. And the ultimate expression of his trust in God as well as his obedience to God was to give his life for us all on the cross.

While it’s not necessary to restrict what our Scripture lesson says about Jesus to this one event, it’s natural to think of Jesus praying in the garden of Gethsemane. I find it wonderfully reassuring that, when faced with one of the cruelest methods of executing a person ever devised, Jesus asked God to deliver him from it! It’s hard to imagine Jesus being truly human and not facing the cross with feelings of anguish and praying “with loud cries and tears” (Heb. 5:7). And yet, the end result of his prayer struggle in that garden was that he decided to go through all of it in order to fulfill God’s desire to make a real difference in all of our lives.

As I mentioned earlier, one of the lessons for us to take away here is that the process of God becoming flesh in Jesus of Nazareth is not just about showing us who God is, it’s also about showing us that God is working to restore us all. Throughout the ages many have wondered why God went to all that trouble. Why not just “say the word” and make everything right again? I think one answer to that question is that the only way to truly make a difference in human life is to take the risk of getting involved that person’s life. The only way to truly help anyone is to enter fully into their experience and pour into it the love that can change them. That’s what Jesus was doing on the cross. As one of our confessions of faith puts it, he went into the abyss of human suffering in order to redeem all of us who have been trapped there.[3] There’s no depth of suffering in human experience that Jesus did not reach. And the profound love he poured out for us all at the cross changes everything! By entering fully into our experience, Jesus truly made the difference for us all.

I think it’s part of our identity as human beings that we all want to make a difference. But making a difference will very likely cost us something, just as it cost Jesus. When we doubt whether Jesus makes a difference in our lives, I think we should remember the friends and loved ones who have made such a difference in our lives. While we may not be able to relate to Jesus as directly as we can to them, we can remember what he went through, and that he did it precisely to make a difference for us. It’s a bit like the way the friends and loved ones we’ve lost still make a difference in our lives today. And when we doubt whether we’re making a difference in anyone’s life, we should also remember the friends and loved ones we’ve lost and how much we miss them. No less than they did when they were with us, we all make a difference in the lives of others just by being who we are.



[1] © 2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 10/20/2024 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 1.2:158: “the New Testament has treated the vere homo [truly human] so seriously that it has portrayed the obedience of Jesus throughout as a genuine struggle to obey, as a seeking and finding.”

[3] The Study Catechism, 1998, q. 45.

Tuesday, April 19, 2022

Suffering Servants

 Suffering Servants

Isaiah 53:1-12; John 13:1-35[1]

It’s hard to look at this world and not be overwhelmed with all the suffering you see. Most of us don’t have to look very far, because in some form or another suffering is a part of our lives. What makes that hard for us is our tendency to resist suffering. We think it’s not “supposed” to be that way. We’re “supposed” to be happy and joyful. But life doesn’t work like that. For some of us suffering comes sooner, for others it comes later, but it inevitably comes to us all. We can either accept it as a part of life, or we can beat our heads against a “wall” trying to avoid it. I think a lot of us probably do some of each.

One of my favorite authors has a different view of suffering. He says that our experience of suffering connects us with the human family, because suffering is something that we all have in common.[2] When I think of our Scripture lessons for this evening, I think that our suffering is what makes it possible for us to serve others the way Jesus did. It’s hard to actually serve someone if you aren’t able to relate somehow to their life experience.

Our lesson from the book of the prophet Isaiah is one of the most beloved passages of the Bible. This lesson paints a beautiful picture of what it looks like when someone is willing to answer the call to serve others, even when it means suffering on their behalf. The main theme of Isaiah 53 is that the “Servant of the Lord,” whom we identify as Jesus, took our sins upon himself so that we might be made whole and right with God. I must confess, however, that the part of this passage that comforts me most is the statement, “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows” (Isa. 53:4, RSV). That’s the language of older translations; it’s not found in our pew Bible. I like the older version because it reminds me that Jesus not only bore our sins, but he also knew the grief and sorrow we bear in this life. Jesus knows what it’s like to suffer for the sake of others!

One of the challenges some people have with this thought is that somehow an “angry God” made Jesus suffer in this way to satisfy a need to punish us for our sins. That image of God is a scary one in a world where people so often abuse others. But I don’t think that’s the point of Isaiah 53. The point is that God’s “Servant” is called to suffer on behalf of others because that’s what God does. The God who never quits loving us is a God who suffers for us and for with us.[3] What we see on that cross is God’s love poured out for us all, taking on all the pain and suffering of the world, in order that we might find God right in the middle of it all, using it to create new life. And we see in Jesus a “suffering servant” who is willing to fulfill God’s love for us even when it leads to a humiliating death on a cross.

That brings me to our lesson from John’s Gospel. As Jesus was preparing his closest disciples for his death, he shared a meal with them. And at this meal he did something none of them would even consider doing for each other: he washed their feet! I think what Jesus was trying to impress on them was that this humble, self-sacrificing love is the kind of love that defines God’s very character. It’s the kind of love that Jesus shared with his disciples. And it’s the kind of love that Jesus commanded them to share with one another: “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another” (Jn 13:34).

Jesus showed them what this kind of love looked like in real life by washing their feet. He washed the feet of Judas, who would betray him. He washed the feet of Peter, who would deny even knowing him. He washed the feet of the others, who would abandon him and run for their lives. I think Jesus knew all of this, and yet he still loved every one of them by washing their feet. And he commanded all who call him “Savior” and “Lord” to love others in the same way.

When we understand Jesus’ command to love one another through the lens of his willingness to follow the path of the “suffering servant,” I think it opens up some new ways for us to understand our lives. If we decide to obey this command and love others enough to humble ourselves as Jesus did, we’re going to find that choice uncomfortable at times, like washing people’s feet would be. But there are going to be times when loving others will be painful. Instead of trying to avoid the path of suffering, we can choose to embrace it.

That doesn’t mean that we go out looking for suffering. But when it comes, and it will, we can look for the good that God is doing in our lives, and through us, in the lives of those who are hurting all around us. Like Jesus, we may have to suffer to truly serve the hurting people in our lives.[4] We choose that path because suffering love is the way God loves us. We serve others through what we may have to suffer because that’s the way Jesus served us. And Jesus calls us to follow him on this path as “suffering servants,” loving others even when it’s uncomfortable, serving others even when we suffer for it.



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

[2] Cf. Henri Nouwen, Turn My Mourning Into Dancing, 5-11. He challenges us to embrace our suffering in the faith that God will redeem it and use it for good rather than seeking to avoid it.

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

[4] Nouwen, Turn My Mourning Into Dancing, 11: “In Christ we see God suffering—for us. And calling us to share in God’s suffering love for a hurting world.”

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.

Tuesday, January 21, 2020

The Light of Life


The Light of Life
Isaiah 42:1-9[1]
  Photosynthesis. It’s not a word we use in our daily conversations. But it certainly is a process we rely on daily! In a simplified version, photosynthesis is the process by which plants use sunlight to produce the food that enables them to grow and the oxygen that we breathe. Even young children who have never heard of the word “photosynthesis” see its effects every year as the weather turns warmer, the trees and shrubs and flowers put out green leaves, and the crops grow and produce food. Photosynthesis is what fuels this process. But more than that, this cycle in nature sustains all life on earth! We may not use the word “photosynthesis” very often, but we certainly depend on it!
  As important as that fundamental process in nature is to sustaining life, as the Scripture says, “one does not live by bread alone” (Deut. 8:3). It takes more than sunlight, air, water, and food for us to thrive. We need to know that there’s someone who cares about us. More than that we need regular doses of kindness, love, goodness, and mercy from “significant others” in our lives in order to be able to reach our full potential for living. Living in a setting where we feel valued, where we feel empowered, where we have hope for the future; these are essential to our well-being. It seems to me that regular doses of kindness, goodness, mercy, and love enable us to have that sense that life is worth living. 
  In our lesson from Isaiah for today, this is precisely the mission of the “Servant” of the Lord. This servant is the one whom the Lord has chosen to “bring forth justice to the nations” (Isa. 42:1). I know that “justice” is a word that sounds somewhat harsh to our ears. But the mission of the Lord’s servant was not a harsh one. He would “bring forth justice” through kindness and mercy. The Scripture says it this way: “a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench” (Isa. 42:3). In The Message translation it says: “He won’t brush aside the bruised and the hurt and he won’t disregard the small and insignificant.”
  The kind of justice the Lord’s “servant” was called “bring forth” would mean “opening the eyes that are blind” and “bringing out the prisoners from the dungeon” (Isa. 42:7). I’ve said many times that doesn’t sound very much like our idea of “justice.” But in the Bible, God’s justice is defined in terms of feeding the hungry, freeing the prisoners, restoring sight to the blind, lifting up those who are bowed down, and caring for vulnerable: refugees, widows, and orphans. The kind of “justice” the Lord sent his “servant” to “bring forth” consists of kindness, mercy, and love. It’s intended to enhance the life of all people.
  In fact, the Scripture tells us that the Lord had called his “servant” to be a “a light to the nations” (Isa. 42:6). Like the light of the sun brings new life to the world of nature every year, so the work of the Lord’s “servant” was intended to be like shining a light that would bring new life to all people. And, Lord knows that we can all use some light to brighten our world and to renew our sense of fulfillment in life! We oftentimes look in all the wrong places for that “light of life.” Only through the experience of genuine goodness, kindness, mercy, and love can we find the light that truly enhances our lives.
  One of the interesting features of the “servant” of the Lord in the book of Isaiah is that it has more than one meaning. In some places, when Isaiah talks about the “servant,” he seems to be referring to himself as a prophet called by God to deliver a message to the people. In other cases, the “servant” seems to be someone who is yet to come, who will bring true justice, peace, and freedom to the oppressed people of God. But in other settings, the “servant” of the Lord is the people of God. They are the ones who are called to bring light to the nations, to make the peace that enables all people to thrive, and to share the mercy of God they have been given so freely.
  While we recognize that Jesus fulfilled the role of the Lord’s “servant” in Isaiah in the fullest sense, I think we also have to embrace that fact that we share that calling as the people of God and as disciples of Jesus. We who have experienced the goodness, kindness, mercy, and love of God through Jesus his “servant” are called to share this life-giving light with all those around us. We’re the “servants” of the Lord who are called to enhance the life experience of the people we encounter. We’re the ones who are called to share the “light of life” with those who may be struggling with the darkness of doubt or despair.
  When we rise to the call to be “servants” of the Lord, we play a crucial role in God’s work of bringing light to all those who are living in darkness. So many people in our world live in constant fear, unrelenting pain, and deep sadness. They’re plagued by a sense of hopelessness about their lives. It’s as if they are stuck in a perpetually dark winter that literally drains the life out of them. But when we accept the call to be “servants” of the Lord by bringing goodness, kindness, mercy, and love, it’s like we’re bringing the light of the sun back into their lives. And just as the sun brings new life to the natural world every Spring, so we can be God’s “servants” who help bring new life to those who are hurting around us. We can help those who are struggling to feel empowered; we can help them have sense of hope for the future; we can help them regain the confidence that life is worth living. When we shine God’s “light of life” into the lives of hurting and hopeless people all around us, we are acting as the Lord’s “servants,” bringing new life to all people.


[1] © 2020 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 1/12/2020 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Wednesday, March 07, 2018

Chosen


Chosen
Isaiah 42:1-7; Mark 1:4-11[1]
One thing you may not know about me is that I can be a pretty picky shopper. Oh, when it comes to everyday things, like grocery shopping, I may take the path of least resistance. But when it comes to spending my hard-earned money on something “important,” I am incredibly selective. I shop online, I read reviews, and I compare and contrast various options. Even then, I may or may not “pull the trigger” and make the purchase. Of course, these days, it’s much simpler because I can do most of that online. You should have seen me back before the internet. I would go all over town looking for just the right purchase, whatever it was. I can be a pretty picky shopper.
We all face choices in our lives, and ironically we may not be so picky with some of the most important choices we face. I find the way our churches choose pastors a bit ironic. All you have to go on is a file with information on it, perhaps a couple of videos, and references. And then you have a couple of “dates” with the prospective pastor, and on the second “date” you have to choose whether or not you want this person to be your pastor. If a friend decided to get married after the second date, most of us would probably do everything in our power to convince them they aren’t making a wise choice.
Our Scripture readings for today speak of a very different kind of choice. They speak of the one whom God has chosen to carry out his purpose. In our lesson from Isaiah, the Scripture speaks of the “servant” of God, who would “bring forth justice to the nations” (Isa. 42:1). That sounds a bit ominous on its own until you read on. The servant will bring about this “justice” in a manner that is gentle and merciful: “a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench” (Isa. 42:3). And the task of bringing “justice” to the nations is equated with bringing “light” to them (Isa. 42:6). The kind of justice the “servant” has been chosen by God to carry out means “opening the eyes that are blind” and “bringing out the prisoners from the dungeon” (Isa. 42:7).
As I’ve said many times, our idea of justice is very different from the Bible.  Our “justice” is about enforcing laws and punishing crimes. It’s about making those in the wrong pay for their actions.  But in the Bible, God’s justice takes place through compassion and mercy and peace. What that means in real-life terms is that the hungry are fed, the prisoners are set free, the blind receive their sight, those who are bowed down are lifted up, and the immigrants and the widows and orphans have someone to watch over them.  Simply put—God’s justice is like a light that shines into all the dark places of the world and makes it possible for all people to thrive equally. This was the task that the “servant” of God in Isaiah was chosen to carry out.
It may not seem obvious to us, but the voice that came to Jesus at his baptism indicates that he was chosen to fulfill the task of establishing God’s justice of compassion and mercy and peace. The voice that came to Jesus, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased” (Mk. 1:11), contains a subtle reference to the original address to God’s “servant” in Isaiah: “my chosen, in whom my soul delights” (Isa. 42:1). I believe that Jesus understood very well the implications of the voice at his baptism: he was called to establish God’s justice that would enable all people to thrive. But he framed it in terms that we might not recognize: Jesus proclaimed that “the Kingdom of God is at hand.” That was his way of saying that he had come to establish God’s justice, peace, and freedom in a world that knew precious little justice, peace, or freedom.
The hard truth is that we still live in a world that knows precious little of God’s justice, peace, and freedom. Looking back over the history of the world, or simply looking back over our own histories, we might be tempted to think it incredibly naïve to still place our hope in such a seemingly idealistic notion. It may seem downright foolish to hope for a world in which “evil in all its forms will be utterly eradicated, … God is really honored as God, human beings are truly loving, and peace and justice reign on earth” as our Study Catechism puts it. If Jesus truly was chosen by God to be his “servant,” his Messiah, the one to bring God’s peace and justice and love into this world, we might expect to see more evidence of it in the way things actually work.
I think this is where we all face a choice. It’s a much more important choice than how you’re going to spend your money, or who you’re going to call as pastor, or even perhaps your choice of a career or a spouse. We all face the choice of how we will view the world in which we live. We can choose to look primarily at all the cruelty, greed, abuse of power, violence, and injustice in our world. When we do so, we will very likely not place much faith in God, let alone put much stock in the hope that Jesus came make a radical difference in our lives. But we can also choose to look at our world through the eyes of faith and hope. When we do, I think we will see that there are indeed signs of God’s justice, peace, and freedom in our world. And that helps reinforce our faith that Jesus was indeed chosen by God to make those hopes a reality for all people everywhere.


[1] ©2018 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 1/7/2018 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

It's Coming Together

It’s Coming Together
Isaiah 42:1-9; Matthew 3:13-17[1]
It’s not hard to take the point of view that our world is coming apart at the seams. If you pay any attention to the news at all, you know that peoples and countries around the world are struggling against all kinds of disorder. The events that capture our attention are often negative, and it can leave us with the feeling that societies are falling into chaos all over the globe. But you don’t have to look that far to get the feeling that society is coming apart. It seems undeniable that the ways of interacting and going about daily life that many of us may have been taught to observe have simply gone by the wayside. Work ethic, civility in public discourse, simple good manners, seem to have worn themselves out.
The result is that it leaves us feeling like the world in which we are trying to live and raise our children is not a safe place. It’s a place where might makes right, which is fine if you have power. But if you don’t, it’s easy to get discouraged from the fact that you can’t even control your own life. Our world is a place where fame and money talk, and when they do, people listen. If you’re famous and rich, that’s great. But if you’re not, it can seem like your voice is, at best, marginal if not completely muted. When we conclude that our world is unsafe because all the commonly-held codes of decency have fallen by the wayside, it can lead us to a fairly gloomy outlook on life.
When we look at the message of the prophets closely, we find that they lived in times like these. They faced their world coming apart, and in response to God’s call, they proclaimed a very different message. They were motivated by the vision of God’s kingdom of peace and justice and freedom coming into this world and transforming it from the very roots. At times that message came to the people as one of judgment—as a warning that if they didn’t change their ways their world would fall apart even more than it already had.
But beyond that, the prophets were motivated by their faith in the God whose righteousness brings peace, the God whose justice puts mercy into action, and the God whose truth sets people free. And that faith led them to the vision that God has something better in store for the world than darkness, fear, injustice, violence, and chaos. After all, the Hebrew Bible introduces us to God as the one who brings light from darkness, who overcomes chaos simply by speaking the word (cf. Isa. 42:5). And as a result, the prophets pointed to the time when that same God would restore everyone and everything to the way he intended them to be.[2] They looked forward to the time when God would come to put back together the broken pieces of this world and the lives that had been shattered by the power-mongers who try to thwart God’s ways and God’s purposes.
Not only did the prophets envision this kingdom in which God’s peace, justice, and freedom would define life for all people everywhere. They also saw the way in which God would accomplish this miracle. Or perhaps more accurately we should say they saw the one through whom God’s kingdom would become a reality. As in our text from the prophet Isaiah for today, they spoke of the “servant of the Lord” as the one through whom God would establish God’s justice in this world (Isa. 42:4). And what all that would look like could be described in these terms: “a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench” (Isa. 42:3). I like the way The Message puts it: “He won’t brush aside the bruised and the hurt and he won't disregard the small and insignificant.”
In other words, the one who would come to establish God’s kingdom in this world would do so through the mercy and grace and steadfast love that are the central characteristics not only of our God but also of the kingdom he intends to establish. The servant of the Lord would not act like those who wield power and influence in our world. He would be one who would come “not to be served, but to serve” (Matt. 20:28). And through his humble service, he would establish God’s righteousness, and the kingdom defined by it, for all the peoples of the world.[3]
I think that’s what Matthew’s story of Jesus’ baptism is about.  Jesus approaches John to be baptized, and John objects, “I need to be baptized by you” (Mt. 3:14)!  Jesus’ response might seem strange at first glance: “it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness” (Mt. 3:15).  One would think that Jesus had “fulfilled all righteousness.”  I think the “righteousness” Jesus was referring to was the righteousness of God’s kingdom that the servant of the Lord was to fulfill. Once again, I think The Message captures the meaning well: “God’s work, putting things right all these centuries, is coming together right now in this baptism.”  In his life and ministry, Jesus was convinced that his mission was to fulfill God’s saving purpose for all the nations.[4]
It can be discouraging to see the way things are going in our world. But if we have the eyes to see it, there is something else going on. In his life and ministry and death and resurrection, Jesus began the work of bringing God’s kingdom of justice, peace, and freedom into this world. And he continues to do that even today. That might come as a surprise to you. What may be even more surprising is the way in which he continues that work: through ordinary people like you and me. As we follow Jesus’ example, we too are “fulfilling” the righteousness of God’s kingdom. As we seek to serve those around us, we can see signs that God’s kingdom is even now coming together in our midst.



[1] ©2017 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 1/8/2017 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
[2] Cf. James L. Mays, Psalms, 311: “The LORD’s reign is power devoted to righteousness and justice.  Righteousness is the rightness that makes for life and shalom; justice is found in decisions and actions according to righteousness.”
[3] W. D. Davies and D. C. Allison, Matthew 1-7, 344: “as the ‘servant’ of God, Jesus not only brings OT prophecy to fulfillment, receiving the Spirit (3.17; 12.18), taking up infirmities (8.17), and giving his life as a ransom for many (20.28)—he is also the paradigm of the righteous sufferer. Thus … he meekly sides with the weak and powerless while being delivered over into the hands of the mighty and powerful. Jesus came not to be served but to serve (20.28), and this idea presents itself at every turn of our gospel. From this we learn that sonship largely consists in choosing to take up the ministry of the suffering servant.”
[4] Cf. Donald Hagner, Matthew 1-13, 60: “Thus John and Jesus perform their respective roles, fulfilling ‘all righteousness’ as the salvific will of God now receives expression in the inauguration of the kingdom and the arrival of a new and crucial stage of salvation-history; cf. also Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7, 326: “when Jesus fulfills all righteousness, he his fulfilling Scripture.”

Monday, April 11, 2016

Ours the Sufferings

Ours the Sufferings
Isaiah 53:1-9[1]
It doesn’t take much to recognize that one of the greatest challenges we may face in this life is undeserved suffering. And it’s not hard to find plenty of examples of those who suffer unjustly. In fact, if we pay attention carefully enough, we might be overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of people who live with hardships and afflictions that they didn’t do a thing to deserve. It’s a part of life that can call into question our faith in God’s grace and mercy and love at its very core. In fact, throughout history, Christian thinkers have wrestled with this problem. Unfortunately, I don’t think anyone has come up with convincing answers as to why it is that the innocent people of our world who put their faith in God are often the ones who suffer the most.[2]
This is a difficulty that the Bible is intimately familiar with. From Moses to the Psalmists to Job to the prophets like Jeremiah and Ezekiel, the Bible is well acquainted with the concept of the innocent bearing underserved suffering. And in many cases, those who are suffering ask God “Why?” They wrestle with God and with their faith and with their suffering. At times these “wrestling matches” in Scripture can be pretty blunt in the honesty with which they express their anguish and discouragement to God. Some of what they say we might even consider blasphemous, but there it is, in the Bible, written as an example and an instruction for us.
Our lesson from Isaiah addresses the question of innocent suffering head-on. It is perhaps one of the best known descriptions of undeserved suffering in the Bible. It is considered one of several “Servant Songs” in Isaiah, sections where the role of the “Servant of the Lord” in carrying out God’s purposes is proclaimed. The “Servant” is 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 he will also bring light to grant the “nations” salvation as well (Isa. 49:1-6). In this chapter, the “Servant” take the sufferings of “the many” on himself, thus fulfilling God’s purpose to make us all whole through the salvation he brings.
An interesting feature of the “Servant Songs” in Isaiah is that it’s not easy to figure out who the “Servant” is, whether an individual, a group, or the nation of Israel.[3] In fact, one of the great challenges with the lesson we are studying is that it would seem that the role of the “Servant” relates to all three, and extends beyond that to all who recognize God’s purpose in the suffering he bore. In some respects, it’s clear that the Scripture is referring to an individual. This person, whether fully understanding the purpose of his suffering or not, willingly offers himself to endure undeserved mistreatment for the sake of others. As the Scripture puts it, “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth” (Isa. 53:7).[4]
In other respects, it would seem that there are other “Servants” who are making a report about the “Servant” and the true meaning of his affliction.[5] In fact, these “Servants” recognize that they totally misunderstood what was happening to the “Servant” initially.[6] They confess, “He was despised, the lowest of men, a man of sorrows, familiar with suffering, one from whom, as it were, we averted our gaze, despised, for whom we had no regard.” (Isa. 53:3, NJB). In that context, anyone who suffered was thought to have done something to deserve it, as Job learned from his so-called friends. But these “Servants” who had missed the true meaning behind the one who was suffering came to recognize that he was suffering for them. They put it this way: “Yet ours were the sufferings he was bearing, ours the sorrows he was carrying, while we thought of him as someone being punished and struck with affliction by God” (Isa. 53:4).[7]
It is this “report” or “testimony” of this group of “Servants” that points us to the message that undeserved suffering doesn’t have to be something meaningless and tragic. It can be the very means by which God carries out his purposes to renew and restore and redeem this world and all of us in it.[8] In fact, this recognition carries with it a call to all Israel—and indeed all of us who hear—to embrace the possibility of suffering on behalf of others in order to carry out God’s purposes in our world.[9]
None of us likes to suffer. Nor do I think that this passage is telling us to go out and seek suffering. Rather, it is addressing one of the great mysteries of our faith: God uses innocent suffering to set things right in this world. For some of us, suffering just comes upon us when we least expect it, and we have to struggle through it as we wrestle with our faith. For those who suffer in this way, we can look to this Scripture for comfort, knowing that ours were the sufferings Jesus bore for us on the cross.
For others of us, God calls us to be willing to bear the sufferings of others and to carry their sorrows, just as God’s servant Jesus did on the cross. It seems that at least part of the reason for this is that those who would seek be God’s servants are called to suffer because it’s the only way to truly set things right in a world of sorrow and pain, of suffering and injustice, of sin and death.[10] We may never fully understand why God works this way. But we can accept the calling knowing that we are following the path that Jesus marked out for us. And we can do so in the assurance that our Savior knows everything we have to bear, because it is true also in this case that ours were the sufferings he bore on the cross.        





[1] © Alan Brehm 2016. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 3/24/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
[2] Cf. Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking, 24: “Christianity … ultimately offers no theoretical solution [to the problem of evil].  It merely points to the cross and says that, practically speaking, there is no evil so dark and so obscene—not even this—but that God can turn it to good.”
[3] Cf. Christopher R. Seitz, “The Book Of Isaiah 40–66” New Interpreters Bible VI:462: “with the death of this individual servant, the servants depict the nations coming to an understanding of Israel’s destiny, while Israel, in its own way, also understands that this individual expression of ‘Israel,’ in the servant (49:3), has effected the removal of sin, in the same way as Moses’ death and intercession brought new life, for Israel. The dual mission of the servant—restoration of the survivors of Israel and as ‘Israel,’ a light to the nations (49:6)—is here confessed by the servants as fully accomplished.” Cf. also Paul D. Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 154, 163-66.
[4] Cf. Seitz, “Isaiah 40–66,” NIB VI:465: “‘He was despised and we esteemed him not’ captures the passive character of his afflicted condition, without stipulating further the reasons or the agents. … There are despising, rejection, sorrow, sickness, smiting (by God), wounding, bruising, chastisement, stripes, oppression, and judgment; but they are uniformly unstipulated in respect of agency (cf. 49:7). What is stipulated are the beneficiaries of all this.” See further, ibid., “Whether they were the agents of his distress or not, they are most assuredly the beneficiaries of his suffering, and this even while they had failed to comprehend it and, indeed, had regarded him as afflicted to another end altogether. No, ‘the Lord has laid upon him the iniquity of us all.’” Cf. also Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 156-57: “Isaiah 53 is Second Isaiah’s … answer to the question of how the tragic pattern of sin and punishment could be broken and replaced by the wholeness that accompanies a hearty embrace of God’s compassion and righteousness. It revolves around the notion of a Servant of the Lord whose surrender to God’s will was so total that he took the consequences of the sin of the community upon himself, even though he was innocent of any wrong.”
[5] Cf. Seitz, “Isaiah 40–66,” NIB VI:460: “The ‘voices’ responsible for this poem are the servant followers of the servant, who see in his death the bringing to fruition of God’s design for him, that he be a ‘light to the nations’ (42:6; 49:6).”
[6] Cf. Seitz, “Isaiah 40–66,” NIB VI:463: “The servants confess their massive misunderstanding of the servant’s suffering and affliction.”
[7] Cf. Seitz, “Isaiah 40–66,” NIB VI:466: “The confession of sin and iniquity is clear as it rises from the lips of the servants. Whether they were the agents of his distress or not, they are most assuredly the beneficiaries of his suffering, and this even while they had failed to comprehend it and, indeed, had regarded him as afflicted to another end altogether. No, “the Lord has laid upon him the iniquity of us all.”
[8] Cf. Seitz, “Isaiah 40–66,” NIB VI:469: “The report got written, even though a generation had got it wrong at first. The report got written, and it was not tragic because God had the final word, and that final word included even the promise that, not just us, but the servant himself saw something of God’s purpose within his agony and was satisfied.” Cf. also Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 154: “What is occurring in the experience of the Servant bears significance that extends far beyond the life of the Servant. … the events of the Servant’s life are episodes in God’s providential care for the whole world.
[9] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 83: “Through his death and resurrection the church participates in his mission, becoming the messianic church of the coming kingdom and man’s liberation.”
[10] Cf. Moltmann, Church in the Power, 91: “in the act of dying [Jesus] brings the liberating rule of God into the situation of deepest abandonment.” Cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, Way of Jesus Christ, 178: “the inner secret of Christ’s vicarious act ‘for us’ is the vicarious act and self-giving of God.”

Monday, April 04, 2016

Empty?

Empty?
Philippians 2:5-11[1]
I think it’s fair to say that a life of service in the name of Christ is not an easy path. After all, his path led him to a brutal execution. If we set out to follow him expecting to experience only joy and blessing, I’m afraid we may be deeply disappointed. The reality is that many who serve others in the name of Christ can find themselves facing not only frustration and discouragement, but also exhaustion and burn-out. This is true not only for pastors but also for anyone who takes seriously the call walk in Jesus’ footsteps. When you give so much of yourself to so many people, you can find yourself feeling empty at the end of the day.
The truth of the matter is that this is a feature of human life that is not restricted to the church. It affects people of all classes, in all walks of life, engaged in a variety of vocations. You give of yourself on behalf of those you love, or on behalf of those you work with, or on behalf of total strangers, and it can leave you feeling empty. When you stretch that kind of experience into days and weeks and months and years, it can make you begin to wonder why you even get out of bed in the morning. The simple fact is that life can be challenging and hard and draining at times. And there is no “free pass” that exempts those of us who follow Christ and trust in God from experiencing that emptiness.
I think, however, that our lesson from St. Paul for today might give us some inspiration here. In the context of this chapter of Philippians, Paul is trying to instruct the Christians about how to live together in community with one another. He urges them to “be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind” and to “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves” (Phil 2:2-3).[2] Paul sums up the kind of relationships he wants to see in the church in terms of imitating the same attitude Jesus displayed (Phil. 2:5).
I find it interesting when Paul spells out what that looks like, he quotes what was probably an early Christian hymn.[3] In fact, the believers in the church at Philippi may very well have been familiar with this hymn. I also find it interesting that this hymn about Jesus only actually refers to two acts Jesus took: the act of “emptying himself” to become human, and the act of “humbling himself” to die on the cross. If we want to know how much we’re to give up in service to others, Paul points to these two acts that reflect the incredibly generous and giving heart of Jesus, as well as God himself.
Scholars have debated for centuries what exactly it was that Jesus gave up when he “emptied himself.” I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to answer that question in this life. But it seems, however, the main point is that Jesus was equal to God, and rather than clinging to that status as something that was his by right, he gave it up to come among us as a servant in order to redeem us all.[4] If that were as far as it went, Jesus would be the most amazing example of self-sacrifice. And yet there’s more: not only did Jesus give up everything to come among us, he also “humbled himself” by obeying God’s will to redeem us all through suffering love.[5] Jesus chose to surrender himself to one of the cruelest means of death ever devised.[6] And so, at the end of his life as at the beginning, he made the choice to sacrifice himself in a way that surpasses our ability to understand or imagine.
If you’re like me, you may be thinking that’s a pretty hard act to follow. You may be wondering how any of us could ever hope to even come close to the kind of loving sacrifice that Jesus made not only by choosing to come as one of us, but also by giving up his life for us all. I must confess there have been times when I myself have asked God how I could keep sacrificing and keep serving when Jesus “only” hung on the cross for six hours. When you think about a lifetime of “taking up your cross” and following Christ in a life of sacrifice and service, it can be an intimidating prospect.
I think one of the practical questions we face is how we can maintain the energy and the motivation to continue following Jesus’ example, as demanding as it can be. I think our expectations may play a significant role in how we experience a life of service. If we expect recognition or reward for our service, we are probably setting ourselves up for serious disappointment, if not flat-out defeat.[7] Rather than expecting any kind of return for following Jesus’ example, I think at least a part of the answer to this question may be to view a life of service as fulfilling and meaningful in and of itself.[8] We don’t derive our sense of satisfaction with our lives from what we get from our service. We simply offer it because following Jesus is the way to find true life.
We can all face times in our lives when the challenge of living out our faith can seem overwhelming. That’s when we can look to Jesus for encouragement and inspiration. His willingness to give up his rights to come among us as a servant inspires us to do the same in our relationships with others. His death on the cross not only brings us forgiveness and new life, it also serves as an example for us to follow.[9] I will not pretend that seeking to follow Christ in either of these ways is easy or that it will bring any special recognition. We do it because that’s what Jesus called us to do. And as we answer that call and follow his example, we find that giving ourselves away in service to others can leave us not empty but fulfilled in a way that no other life endeavor could possibly match.



[1] © Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 3/20/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
[2] Cf. Morna D. Hooker, “The Letter To The Philippians,” New Interpreters Bible XI: 515-16, where she summarizes Paul’s intent: “Those who confess Jesus as Lord should not be looking for status or power; nor should they be acting from ‘selfish ambition or conceit’ (2:3). Rather, they should be humbly considering others better than themselves. And because they are concerned with the interests of others (2:4), they will be of one mind and one purpose, ‘having the same love’ and of one accord (2:2). In stark contrast to the modern spirit of encouraging competition and giving rewards to individuals who get to the top, Paul insists on mutual concern and service.”
[3] Cf. Fred B. Craddock, Philippians, 39: “Paul is quoting a hymn which arose in another context to address another problem, perhaps a Christological question. Christological hymns and confessions are not uncommon in Paul’s writings and they seem, by internal structure and relation to their literary contexts, to be quotations from a common store of materials used in the worship of Gentile Christian churches (I Cor. 8:6; II Cor. 8:9; Col. 1:15-20, and others).”
[4] Cf. Hooker, “Philippians,” NIB XI:507. She points out that there is an implicit contrast with Adam in this part of the passage: “Christ, who was ‘in the form of God,’ might well have claimed the privileges of equality with God as his right, but did not do so. What Adam desired, Christ was content to forgo.” And yet she also rightly observes (ibid., 508), “Christ did not cease to be ‘in the form of God’ when he took the form of a slave, any more than he ceased to be the ‘Son of God’ when he was sent into the world. On the contrary, it is in his self-emptying and his humiliation that he reveals what God is like, and it is through his taking the form of a slave that we see ‘the form of God.’”
[5] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, Jesus Christ for Today’s World, 40: “Christ entered into this humiliation and this forsakenness so that he could become a brother for the humiliated and forsaken, and bring them God’s kingdom. He doesn’t help through supernatural miracles. He helps by virtue of his own suffering—through his wounds. ‘Only the suffering God can help’, wrote Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his death cell. God always helps first of all by suffering with us. …The God of Jesus Christ is the God who is on the side of the victims and the sufferers, in solidarity with them.” Cf. also Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 4.1:164-66, where he summarizes the New Testament references to this theme. He says (ibid., 166), “The story of Gethsemane (like the story of the temptation at the beginning of the Gospels) shows two things: first, that we have to do with His genuine human decision; and second, that it is a decision of obedience. He chooses, but He chooses that apart from which, being who He is, He could not choose anything else.”
[6] Cf. Hooker, “Philippians,” NIB XI:509. She says, “More than two thousand years of Christian piety have obscured from us the shock and horror with which these final words would have been heard by their original audience. Crucifixion was the cruelest and most shameful of deaths, and there could be no greater contrast with the opening lines of the “hymn,” or with the exaltation that follows.”
[7] Cf. Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer, reprinted in Ministry and Spirituality, 155-56. Nouwen warns that many of those who base their Christian lives on the search for visible results “have become disillusioned, bitter, and even hostile” to the faith “when years of hard work bear no fruit.” He advises that our ability to continue to serve others is not based on the results we see, but rather on the hope that is firmly grounded in Christ’s victory over death itself, which demonstrates “that there is light on the other side of darkness.”
[8] Cf. Craddock, Philippians, 42: “Christ acted in our behalf without view of gain. That is precisely what God has exalted and vindicated: self-denying service for others to the point of death with no claim of return, no eye upon a reward.”
[9] Cf. Craddock, Philippians, 42: “The central event in the drama of salvation is an act of humble service.”