Not Without Honor

 Not Without Honor

Mark 6:1-6[1]

The work of ministry can be challenging. It’s one of those endeavors where you don’t normally get to see the results of your efforts. In a world that is so thoroughly “results-oriented,” the work of the church can be frustratingly maddening. When I was a brand-new minister, I struggled with this frustration personally. I always worked hard to do my best, and yet it seemed that I was constantly faced with the fact that others who didn’t put forth anywhere near the same effort met with far greater success, at least outwardly. I could easily identify with Paul’s sentiment when he saw himself as the “least of the Apostles” compared the others and said, “I worked harder than any of them—though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me” (1 Cor 15:9-10).

I think that side of the church’s ministry is one reason why the Bible uses so many analogies from agriculture. Any form of agriculture can be risky. You never know what the outcome of your efforts will be until the harvest is complete. Even then, you may not be entirely sure how much you will make from your crop, because it all depends on how you time your sale! The work of the church is like that, except the harvest is extended seemingly indefinitely. We’re all constantly planting seeds and tending the fields, not knowing what the outcome will be. But that’s just the nature of the work. Expecting certain results only sets you up for disappointment and even bitterness.[2]

Our Gospel lesson for today reminds us that even Jesus faced this challenge. Although for the most part the Gospel of Mark tells us about the vast crowds that thronged to Jesus for healing, today’s story is very different. It’s about Jesus’ visit to his hometown, Nazareth. If a teacher like Jesus could expect to find support anywhere, it should have been from “his own hometown, and his own kin, and his own house” (cf. Mk. 6:4). That’s not always the way things work, but I would say that most of us look for support from those who know us best.

Unfortunately, in Jesus’ case, it was precisely the fact that they knew him so well that kept them from responding to his ministry. The episode begins with Jesus teaching in his hometown synagogue. Initially, the response was one of surprise on their part: “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands!” (Mk 6:2). I would assume that they had heard about the amazing things Jesus had been doing. Perhaps they were even waiting for the day when they could see the “hometown boy made good” for themselves. But when the day came, it was the fact that they knew him (or at least so they thought) that stumped them. Any curiosity turned to resentment: “Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary?” (Mk 6:3). They knew his family, including his brothers and sisters. Some of them may even have been extended family. But instead of responding to him with faith, they “took offense” at him, or they “stumbled” because of him.

In reply, Jesus quoted what must have been a well-known proverb in that day: “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house” (Mk. 6:4). Perhaps in our day we might say, “Familiarity breeds contempt”! It would seem that they resented him for the fact that he had gained such fame by his “wisdom” and “deeds of power.” They still saw him as “the carpenter,” not as the one empowered by God to bring the kingdom. As a result, Mark tells us that “he could do no deed of power there” and that “he was amazed at their unbelief” (Mk 6:5-6). It wasn’t that they couldn’t believe; the problem was they refused to believe.

And yet, Mark adds a comment that could easily be overlooked. He says, “he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them” (Mk. 6:5). I love that! Jesus, faced with a level of unbelief that surprised even him, was prevented from carrying out his task of bringing the new life of God’s kingdom to the people who knew him best. But there were a few who must have responded with faith. And they did experience that new life through his ability to heal them of their diseases. Among the Gospels, only Mark includes this detail. But I think it’s important, because it says to me that even when it seems that everything is standing in the way of God’s work, the power of the kingdom finds a way.

I think that’s an important reminder for all of us. The work that we carry out together as a community of faith is work that can be frustrating from the apparent lack of results. It’s especially discouraging when other churches seem to be doing so much better. But when those comparisons get us down, perhaps we should remember this surprising encounter Jesus had with his hometown. Even though the results didn’t seem to be what one would expect, God’s kingdom found a way to touch the hearts of those who responded in faith. I believe we can continue to do the work of ministry regardless of outcomes, confident that God’s kingdom will do its work among us. Other people may not think much of us in comparison with bigger churches. I say let them think what they want. I believe that all who remain faithful in the work of the kingdom are “not without honor” in God’s sight.

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[1] © 2021 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 7/4/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Henri J. M. Nouwen, The Wounded Healer, 76, where he says that Christian leadership is based on hope in the promise of God; by contrast, looking for tangible results is “like building a house on sand instead of on solid rock.”

Caring Deeply

Caring Deeply

1 Thessalonians 2:1-8[1]

We live in a time that seems devoid of risk-takers. To be sure, there are plenty of people who engage in risky behaviors, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about people who set off on journeys of exploration without knowing for sure whether they would make it back safely. I know there are some of them, but I don’t see too many people “boldly going where no one has gone before.” Even NASA, which seemed to embody that spirit for so many of us for so long, is retreating from manned space flight to sending robotic devices to take all the risks for us.

You may see things differently, but to me it feels like we’ve decided these are the days for playing it safe. We do everything we possibly can to minimize the risks we take in every aspect of our lives. We want guaranteed outcomes, assurances of protection, and hedges to minimize any potential exposure to loss. Any kind of loss. But the problem is that life is full of losses. To protect ourselves from loss, we have to refuse to be vulnerable to the people around us, to life itself. Choosing to live that way is really choosing to avoid life altogether. Yes, if we take risks, if we make ourselves vulnerable, we’re going to get hurt. We’re going to lose something or someone we cherish. But to refuse to do so is to choose not to live at all.

When you pay attention to the story of St. Paul’s life and ministry in the New Testament, I think you’d have to conclude that he took a different approach to life. While he may have started out on a relatively safe path, after he met Jesus Christ his life was anything but safe. As we discussed a couple of weeks ago, it seems as if Paul was constantly going from the frying pan into the fire as he went from town to town preaching the gospel and planting churches. Paul was nothing if not a risk-taker, making himself vulnerable in just about every way possible—even risking his life at times for the sake of the gospel and the people he served.

In our lesson for today, Paul mentions the fact that he had been “shamefully mistreated” at Philippi just before coming to Thessalonica. If we read the story in the book of Acts, we find that he was arrested and thrown in jail, although it was illegal to do that to a Roman citizen without due cause.  Again, we have to remember that jails in St. Paul’s day were a far cry from jails today! I think it would be more accurate to say he spent the night in the city dungeon. I’m not sure how eager I would be to get back to the work of preaching the gospel and serving the church if it meant spending time in jail, let alone a dungeon! And yet, Paul seemed to take it all in stride. He continued to take the risk of serving Christ.

If you think about all that St. Paul had been through, I think it’s amazing that he continued to press on from place to place. When St. Paul came to Thessalonica, a city he’d never visited before, he says, “we had courage in our God to declare to you the gospel of God in spite of great opposition” (2:2). Just exactly what that opposition was, we may never know for sure. The book of Acts mentions opponents who followed Paul from place to place, stirring up opposition against him, gathering crowds to run him out of town. Despite all of that, the Apostle kept right on proclaiming the Gospel in every new city he visited.

I don’t know about you, but I find it amazing that Paul was able to keep on going despite all the opposition and even outright attacks he faced. I think he gives us an idea of why he would do so when he says, “So deeply do we care for you that we are determined to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves” (1 Thess. 2:8). It was his genuine love for the people he was serving that kept him going in the face of overwhelming odds. The fact that he “cared deeply” for them was what motivated him to keep taking the risk of putting himself out there, serving no matter what the cost, sharing God’s love for all whom he encountered on his travels.

I think part of the reason why he was willing to make himself so vulnerable was because of his commitment to practice what he preached. In another letter he says, “we refuse to practice cunning or to falsify God’s word, but by the open statement of the truth we commend ourselves to the conscience of everyone in the sight of God” (2 Cor. 4:2). His commitment that his private life would be consistent with his public life made it possible for him to share himself so openly with the people he served in churches all over the world of his day.

I’ll be the first to admit that it’s difficult to take this approach to life. Most of us cannot say that we perfectly embody the model of aligning our private lives with the part of ourselves we present to the world. Most of us cannot say that our public lives are a shining example of discipleship to Jesus Christ.  When we feel vulnerable in these ways, our natural tendency is to withdraw and protect ourselves. But that’s not the example Jesus set for us, nor did Paul. They offered themselves freely because they were motivated by something deeper and more powerful than a desire for safety. They served because of the heartfelt love and concern they had for others. I think their example can help us today: we, too can take the risk of making ourselves vulnerable and choose to serve others no matter what the risk may be because we care deeply for the people around us.

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[1] ©2017 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 10/29/2017 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Step Out of the Boat

Step Out of the Boat

Matt. 14:22-33[1]

I’m not really much of a risk-taker. You may think it strange for someone who just moved here from Houston to say that. But it’s true. Even though I’ve moved around a fair bit, I’ve spent my whole life looking for a place where I could just settle down. Part of the reason for that is I much prefer to play it safe than to take risks. And yet life itself is a risk--not to mention the Christian life. The only way to “play it safe” in life is not to play at all. That’s certainly an option, but it’s not a very attractive one. You may avoid getting hurt, or being humiliated, or facing rejection, or dealing with failure. But you also miss out on the joy and goodness of life that can catch you by surprise when you least expect it. And you really can’t practice the kind of discipleship that Jesus calls us all to live without taking risks.

The Apostle Peter seems to be the very embodiment of a risk-taker. Throughout the Gospels, it seems that Peter is the one who leaps before he looks. Our Gospel lesson for today is no exception. After spending a night struggling on the Sea of Galilee against a contrary wind, Peter and the disciples were confronted with what appeared to them as a terrifying sight--a ghost walking on the water coming towards them. But it was no ghost at all. It was Jesus himself, walking on the water. Despite their fears, Jesus reassured them immediately, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid” (Matt. 14:27).[2] And of course, Peter, being Peter, blurted out, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water” (14:28). And Jesus simply said, “Come.”

So he did. Peter stepped out of the boat in the middle of a storm. Talk about taking a risk! They were having a hard enough time keeping the boat afloat. But to actually step out of that boat was quite a bold step. And the Scripture says he started walking on the water also! It’s one thing for Jesus to walk on the water, but for Peter, ordinary, impulsive, flawed Peter to actually walk on the water seems beyond incredible. Of course, it was short-lived. As the Scripture says, when Peter “noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’” (14:30). That sounds more like something we can understand. And, naturally, Jesus grabbed him and kept him from going under. He gently pointed out Peter’s mistake, saying, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” (14:31).[3]

I must confess, I’m not quite sure what to make of this. I’ve never known anybody who could walk on water. And I certainly can’t do it! This is another one of those miracles in the Gospels that stretches our imagination. And because of that, it has inspired all kinds of rationalizations.[4] Some have said Jesus was walking on a sand bar, or that he was actually walking on the shore, and that it only appeared to the disciples as if he was walking on water. But of course all that leaves out a few details. First, these were men who made their living on the water. I think they could tell the difference between someone walking on water and someone walking on a sand bar! Secondly, if Jesus was walking on some sort of firm ground, I have to wonder why in the world would he have invited Peter to try walking on water! And thirdly, if Jesus wasn’t walking on the water, what was Peter walking on? I don’t really think any of the so-called “rational” explanations of what “really” happened do justice to this Gospel story.

But I think that whether or not we can explain this story is beside the point. It seems to me at least one of the details we’re meant to notice is the fact that Peter, a man who was no stranger to storms on the Sea of Galilee, actually got out of a perfectly good boat simply because Jesus told him to “Come”! As I’ve mentioned, Peter seems to be something of a risk-taker. Even though Peter the risk-taker has eyes to see the waves and ears to hear the wind howling around him, I think the astounding thing is that he stepped out of the boat in the first place.[5] Who does that kind of thing?

We might be tempted to think that this was the Apostle Peter, and so he must have had a special kind of faith that enabled him to take risks that the rest of us don’t normally take. But let me remind you that this is also the same Peter who denied even knowing Jesus not once but three times. I don’t think Peter or the other Apostles had any kind of special faith that was any different from the faith the rest of us have.[6] What made them special was that when they were called upon by Jesus to do something that was risky, or pushed their boundaries, or even may have seemed not to make any sense, they stepped up and did it.[7]

I think this is the challenge that this story presents to us all. Many people these days seem to think that the Christian life is a way to play it safe. They see it as a means of ensuring that their lives will have the kinds of positive outcomes they want--a stable family, a successful career, a happy life. But if we pay close attention to those first disciples of Jesus and what happened to them, we have to realize that the Christian life is incredibly risky. If we decide to follow Jesus, we may very well be called upon to “step out of the boat,” whatever that boat may look like, and do something that takes all the faith and courage we can muster.[8] In fact, I would say that if we take the Christian life seriously, we can pretty well bet on the fact that at some point we will be challenged to “step out of the boat.” My prayer is that when that happens, we’ll have the faith and the courage to do so.

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[1] ©2014 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 8/10/2014 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. M. Eugene Boring, “The Gospel of Matthew,” New Intepreters Bible VIII:328, where he points out that Jesus’ “It is I” is actually simply “I am,” which evokes God’s self-identification in Exod. 3:13-15.

[3] Amy B. Hunter, “Stepping Out of the Boat,” The Christian Century (July 26, 2005):19 interprets Jesus’ words in terms of “You were doing it! You had it! Don't lose that!” She says, “Faith is never settled once for all. I grasp God, or more accurately, for a moment I realize that God grasps me, and then I lose that knowledge. I never get to check off  ‘have faith’ on my list of accomplishments.”

[4] Cf. Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew, 168.

[5] Cf. Hare, Matthew, 169-70: this story “graphically depicts what it means to be a Christian caught midway between faith and doubt.” Contrast Boring, “Gospel of Matthew,” NIB VIII:328-330, where he suggests that Peter’s desire to step out of the boat was to put Jesus to the test, and reflects a lack of faith.

[6] Cf. Beverly R. Gaventa, “Doubt and Fear,” The Christian Century (July 14-21,1993): 709, “The variety of faith granted to human beings does not banish fear. No amount of moralizing or pleading will make it so. Faith does, however, teach us whose name to call and who waits to calm us, for faith knows who is powerful over the deep of our fears as over the deep of the waters.”

[7] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 4.2:538. He says, “Faith is not obedience, but as obedience is not obedience without faith, faith is not faith without obedience. They belong together, .... Peter and all of them did believe, and therefore they did at once and self-evidently that which was commanded.”

[8] Cf. Joanna M. Adams, “Faith and Fear,” Journal for Preachers 19 (Pentecost 1996): 28, “Faith is not the absence of fear, but the courage to walk through the fear; to take the hand that is offered. To be courageous is not to be fearless; it is to be able to act in spite of fear.”