Stumbling

 Stumbling

Matthew 21:33-46[1]

These days it’s hard to separate “enemies” from friends who disagree with us. It seems like every issue that we can disagree on sets us against each other. It’s too easy for us all to get upset and even outright angry over a simple matter of disagreement. I don’t know, but I wonder if the reason for this is that we’re all afraid. The world we live in has changed dramatically. And the speed at which it continues to change is one that can take your breath away. Life seems to keep getting harder and more confusing. When we’re living under that kind of stress, our “radar” gets stuck in “danger” mode. When that happens, it’s hard for us to separate “enemies” from friends who disagree with us.

I think part of the reason for this is when we are stuck in “danger” mode, our fear dictates our response to everything. We don’t really take the time to sort through whatever we may be dealing with in order to come up with the appropriate response. We simply react. What’s more, we’ve gotten pretty good at coming up with “reasons” to justify our fears and the reactions they fuel. And the result is that, instead of taking enough time to listen to those who disagree with us to understand where they’re coming from, we simply “paint” them as “enemies.” Breaking down the world into “enemies” and “allies” is at least part of what creates the polarization we are living with in these days. We dump people into “all or nothing” categories to feel safer about our world.

I wouldn’t say that Jesus was “dumping” people into all or nothing categories in our Gospel lesson. But it is a disturbing one. Jesus tells a parable about tenant farmers working in a vineyard who refuse to pay the landlord his share of the harvest. When he sends servants to collect, they beat them, and kill others. When he sends his son, they throw him out of the vineyard and kill him, too. And the point is to confront the Jewish religious leaders for rejecting Jesus, just as Jewish religious leaders had rejected the prophets God sent them for generations. And the result, from Matthew’s perspective, is that the kingdom of God was to be taken away from the Jewish people and given to others. Looking back at this parable from the history of Jesus’ death and resurrection can see that’s what’s going on here.

Unfortunately, through the centuries, people in the church have used passages like this to “paint” all Jewish people as “enemies.” In fact, they were labeled “Christ killers” for centuries. And as a result, they were persecuted and hounded from town to town, city to city, and nation to nation. The sad truth, however, is that this reflects more the human tendency to mark certain people as “enemies” than it did Jesus’ teaching. Many of the Jewish people in that day became believers. Thousands of them did! Not even all the Jewish religious leaders were “enemies” of the church. Two of the most prominent leaders, Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, objected to the way the high council was proceeding in Jesus’ trial, and they were among those who tended to Jesus’ body after his death. And in the book of Acts we learn of former Pharisees who had become believers (Acts 15:5).

I think the way this story has been (mis)used in the history of the church provides us with a caution against “painting” people with broad strokes. This not only applies to people who follow other religious traditions, but basically to everyone. There’s not a single one of us who has a legitimate claim to judge anyone. We simply do not know the whole story about anyone we try to make out to be an “enemy.” More than that, there’s only one judge whom we all must face, and that’s Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior. Perhaps the most practical consideration here is that we cannot judge because all of us share in the weaknesses and flaws that define us as human beings.

In this approach to our lesson for today I’m actually taking my cue from John Calvin. In his commentary on the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, he also views this parable as a confrontation of the Jewish religious leaders, who were originally appointed by God, because they used their office to tear down what they were called to build up. But Calvin also recognizes that all people are still subject to the same temptations that led the Jewish religious leaders to betray their calling. And so he urges the people of his day to take this parable as a “useful warning” that we seek to be diligent about serving our Lord “in true godliness” so that our work may “yield fruit.”[2] I would say that’s a warning from which we can all benefit.

But the truth of the matter is not only that we are all subject to the same temptations. We also all stumble from time to time. Some of what we heard from our Scripture lessons for today might lead us to that there’s no room for that kind of thing. Some of what Jesus taught might lead us to think that there’s no room for stumbling if we want to follow him. In the Sermon on the Mount he said, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Mt 5:48). And as we heard from our Gospel lesson last week, at another time Jesus said, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Lk 9:62). If we follow John Calvin’s line of thinking that those who fall to human temptations might forfeit our calling, it doesn’t sound like there’s much room there for stumbling.

And yet, we’re all subject to human temptations. And we all stumble from time to time. We might think that means that we’ve forfeited any claim to God’s love. I would think all of us would agree we cannot possibly live up to the demand to be “perfect.” And if “looking back” makes you unfit for the kingdom of God, then nobody is “fit.” Nobody is “worthy.” Perhaps that’s the point. We can never deserve the gift of God’s amazing grace, mercy, and love. But if it’s really true that God’s love for us never fails, and that God’s love is unconditional for everyone, then stumbling doesn’t have to mean that we have somehow forfeited our calling to follow Jesus. We all stumble from time to time, and God’s love is such that he continues to reach out to us even when we fall short. Especially when we stumble. At the end of the day, our service to Christ isn’t about whether or not we are “fit” or “deserving,” but rather it’s about the fact that God chooses to accomplish his work in this world through flawed and fallible people like you and me. For me, that’s an encouragement. It reminds me that God still carries out his work even when I stumble, and even when I fall. And I think that’s true for us all: we can still keep serving Christ even when we stumble!

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[1] © 2023 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 10/8/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] John Calvin, Commentary on a Harmony of the Evangelists Matthew, Mark, and Luke, vol 3:35-38.

Dismantling Evil

 Dismantling Evil

Matthew 4:1-11[1]

Our culture has an almost irrational fascination with evil. When I was in college, I read Bram Stoker’s Dracula for one of my English classes. It’s a gruesome and horrific story, one meant to inspire fear of the unknown powers of evil in this world. But the ultimate point of the horror genre, at least in that modern era, was to provide the assurance that no matter how frightening the powers of evil in this world may be, they can and will be overcome by good. Of course, in our postmodern day, those lines have been blurred in popular culture. Novels and films intentionally play up the “good bad guy” over against the “bad good guy.” And the fascination with evil persists. Whether it’s demons, or vampires, or zombies, people seem to think that if they can understand evil, then it’s not such a threat.

I’m not sure that’s the best way to try to deal with the reality of evil in the world. We only have to turn on the evening news to see all kinds of evil run rampant, seemingly unchecked. And way too many people take comfort in being able to say that all this is the work of a “devil.” Somehow, giving credit to a “devil” who is behind all the evil in the world helps people feel better. I think that’s partly because it gives them a ready explanation for where all this evil comes from. I think it’s also because it “confines” evil to one particular figure. In a strange way, that provides reassurance. But in my mind, the popular myths around a “devil” who is everywhere at all times, who is all-knowing and all-seeing, and who has the power to tempt anyone anywhere only increases fear. And it gives any “devil” there may be in this world way too much credit.

I think one of the purposes of our Gospel lesson from Matthew is to demonstrate that whatever evil powers there may be in this world have been decisively defeated by Jesus. Of course, that’s one of themes surrounding the cross and the resurrection in the NT. As the writer of the letter to the Hebrews puts it, Jesus “destroyed the Devil’s hold on death and freed all who cower through life” (Heb 2:14-15, MSG). In our Gospel lesson for today, we find that the “devil” held no power over Jesus from the very start. Although Jesus was weakened by his forty-day fast, which means that the temptations he faced were real, he was able to dismiss every one of them simply by reciting Scripture. And this wasn’t the last temptation he would face.

Part of the reason for Jesus’ ability to dismiss the “devil” so easily is because he had already declared at his baptism that he was determined to “fulfill all righteousness” (Mt 3:15). This is a theme that Matthew’s Gospel develops, and it includes Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount about what it truly meant to follow him in discipleship: responding to the demand of grace by loving God and loving others. It also includes Jesus’ obedience to the Father’s will, seen ultimately in his willingness to go to the cross. But here, we see Jesus’ determination to “fulfill all righteousness” in his unwavering commitment to remain true to God in the face of every temptation.

Every one of the temptations in this story had to do with how Jesus would fulfill his role as God’s “beloved son,” as the voice from the heavens had identified him at his baptism immediately before the temptation (Mt 3:17). Although it seems harmless for Jesus to have fed himself by turning a stone into bread, the temptation went deeper than hunger. The question was whether he would trust in and rely on God to meet all his needs, or whether he would take matters into his own hands. In response to Jesus’ faithful obedience to Scripture, the second temptation (mis)quotes scripture regarding his trust in God. The misuse of the scripture can be seen in that the “tempter” twisted a passage affirming God’s unfailing care into a challenge to put God to the test. Each time, Jesus demonstrated his commitment to “fulfill all righteousness” by remaining true to God.

I think in Matthew’s Gospel we’re meant to see the fact that, despite Jesus’ weakened condition, the “temptation” was really no contest. All he had to do to ward off every temptation was to recite scripture. And the scriptures he used were among the most basic in the Bible: they are related to the call to stay true to one true God from the Shema, the verse that pious Jewish people still recite every day (Dt 6:4-5). Even the final temptation, the offer of “all authority” if Jesus would turn from his loyalty to God and worship the “devil,” was an almost pathetic attempt that failed spectacularly. Again, all Jesus had to do was recite the most basic scripture, which he likely had known all his life: “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him” (Dt 6:13).

One aspect of Matthew’s story of the temptation may be hard for us to see. In that final temptation, the “devil” falsely offered Jesus “all the kingdoms of the world and their glory” on a “high mountain.” As if the “devil” would have been able to give what belongs to God! At the end of Matthew’s Gospel, meeting his disciples on another mountain, Jesus declared that God had given him “all authority in heaven and on earth” (Mt 28:18). As a result of Jesus’ commitment to “fulfill all righteousness,” even when it meant going to the cross, God raised him to his own right hand, far above all the powers of evil there may be in this world. Jesus our Savior dismantled the power of evil by his willingness to remain true to God in the face of every temptation.

When we buy into the popular mythology surrounding the “devil,” we may give it far too much credit. Any “devil” there may be is a created being. It cannot be everywhere at all times, it is not all-knowing or all-seeing, and it does not have the power to tempt anyone anywhere. Only God has the power to be everywhere at all times, to be all-knowing and all-seeing! More than that, any “devil” there may be is a defeated being. It could not even stand up to Jesus after he was weakened by forty days of fasting. It certainly cannot rival the power of the risen Christ reigning as Lord from the right hand of God. That means that ultimately, we don’t have to fear evil in this world. Jesus’ death and resurrection broke the power of evil forever. Of course, we still face the reality of evil in this world, but because Jesus is the one who is with us, he helps us face every temptation. And more than that he gives us the power to join with him in dismantling whatever evil there may be in our world in the same way as he did: by remaining true to God.

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[1] ©2023 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 2/26/2023 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

The LORD Alone

The LORD Alone

Luke 4:1-13[1]

I’ve observed before that the information age has opened many doors for us. Most of us carry a device with us that provides instant access to all the information we could ever need or want. That opens up for us new doors by which we can learn and grow, new ways in which we can stay connected to one another, and even new means of being productive. But the information revolution has also opened a whole “pandora’s box” of temptations for us all every day. If anyone has a particular weakness, our smartphones and tablets and computers tempt them 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. Whatever it is that we turn to in order to fill the emptiness in our hearts, we can access it any time, and nobody will know about it.

We turn to our faith to help us with the temptations we face. But I think we get confused about what constitutes faith. In the Scriptures, faith is not about getting whatever we ask for, simply by using the right “magic” words. Faith is about recognizing that the “LORD our God alone” is the one who provides all our wants and needs. Faith is about trusting God, regardless of the circumstances of our lives. And faith is about a relationship with God in which we love God with all our hearts. That means that we commit ourselves to be faithful to God, no matter what may come. That’s the kind of faith that will help us face our temptations, not some kind of magical wish fulfillment.

Our Gospel lesson for today tells a story about how Jesus faced temptation. It talks about Jesus being tested for forty days by the “the devil.”  Since Jesus had gone without food during that time, the initial temptation was obvious—he was hungry! And in a subtle and seemingly innocent way, “the devil” suggests that if Jesus is really the Son of God, he could turn a stone into bread. In this way he could easily fill his hunger. It seems harmless enough. If I had gone without food for an extended time and someone told me that I could turn a rock into a meal, I probably wouldn’t think twice about it. After all, what’s wrong with eating when you’re hungry?

But Jesus knew there was much more at stake than the rumblings in his stomach. The temptations weren’t about the best way to find a meal in the desert. The point of the test that Jesus faced in the wilderness was about his faith in God and his faithfulness to God. He faced this test right after hearing God’s voice affirming him at his baptism: “You are my Son, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased” (Lk 3:22). The temptations Jesus faced tested how he would fulfil his role as the “Son of God”: whether by relying on his faith in God and by remaining faithful to God or simply by using any means available to fulfill his own desires.

Jesus knew that the point of the temptations, even the one about feeding himself, was to determine whether he would follow God’s ways and God’s purpose for his life, or whether he would see to his own needs. I think that’s why he responded by quoting scripture: in every case Jesus demonstrates his determination to remain true to God. In response to the question whether he would take a shortcut to ruling over the kingdoms of this world that would bypass his death on the cross, Jesus answered, “It is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him’” (Lk 4:8, quoting Dt 6:13).

The background of this quote is important. In Deuteronomy chapter six, Moses insisted that “The LORD is our God, the LORD alone” (Dt 6:4). Since the LORD alone was their God, then the “great commandment” followed: “You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might” (Dt 6:5). And the way they would do that was by obeying God’s commands from the heart in all areas of their lives. In other words, their faith in the LORD as the one who alone was their God led them into a relationship in which they were to love God with all their hearts. And the way they were to demonstrate their love for God was to remain faithful to God by obeying him. This was the kind of faith that Jesus used to overcome his temptation.

Like the people of Israel, Jesus found himself in the wilderness, at the mercy of the elements, unable even to provide for his most basic needs. This was not an accident. Moses says that the purpose for Israel’s wilderness wandering was to determine whether the people would remain true to God (Deut. 8:2). I think something similar was going on with Jesus: The test Jesus faced on this occasion and throughout his ministry was whether he would remain faithful to God’s ways and God’s purpose, which would lead him to a cross. Although Israel failed that test again and again, Jesus demonstrated that he would hold firmly to his faith in God and remain faithful to God’s purpose.

Our Gospel lesson presents Jesus as the prime example of faith and faithfulness to God: his faith that “the LORD alone is God” meant that he loved God with all his heart. That love for God led him to remain faithful to God. This story encourages us to follow Jesus’ example in our own lives. But we must remember that Jesus’ faith and faithfulness led him to his death on a cross. As we seek to follow him in this season of Lent, we must remember that the fundamental test we face is whether we will worship “the LORD alone” who is our God. There is no other one who has created us, there is no other one who provides for us, there is no other one who deserves our faith and who can command our faithful obedience. All of that, along with our hearts and our lives, belong to the LORD alone!

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[1] © Alan Brehm 2022. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 3/6/2022 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman NE.

Stumbling

Stumbling

Mark 9:38-50[1]

I wasn’t much of an athlete when I was growing up. I tried playing football, basketball, and baseball, but I just wasn’t very good at any of them. My problem was that I had two “left feet” and I was “all thumbs.” I wasn’t fast, and I didn’t have much in the way of ball-handling skills. So I didn’t even make the basketball team, I didn’t try out for baseball, and in football they stuck me on the line. On the other hand, I was in the marching band, and I did play the trombone, both of which require a level of coordination. And I loved riding my bicycle even then. But in most of the sports that were available, I seemed to be constantly stumbling.

The truth of the matter is that we all stumble through life in many ways that we’d rather not admit. As much as we’d like to be able to present to the world an image of someone who “has it all together,” that’s not really the truth about any of us! We all fall short of the “perfection” we’d like to be able to achieve. We all have times in our lives when, despite our best efforts, we stumble. There have been times in my life when it seemed like all I could do was stumble! I would say that what’s important is not whether we stumble, but what we do when we stumble. Picking ourselves up and starting again can be difficult, but that’s how we learn and grow.

Our gospel lesson for today presents us with some potential “stumbling blocks.” Part of the problem is that we who try to take the Bible seriously can find it difficult to handle it when the Bible uses metaphors, analogies, parables, and other figures of speech. It’s especially difficult for us because we are working with words on a page. We can’t see the expression on Jesus’ face to help us understand when he’s using a figure of speech. We use them all the time, and our language would be much the poorer if we didn’t! But because we are used to our cultural metaphors, we understand them. It’s much more difficult when we’re dealing with the metaphors from a very different time and place.

So, for instance, there have been some who believe that Jesus meant it literally when he said that it’s better to cut off your foot or your hand or tear out your eye than to stumble into sin. But most of us recognize that Jesus didn’t mean it that way. A one-handed person can still be a thief. As we saw a few weeks ago, sin is something that comes from the heart, not from any particular body part. John Calvin observed that Jesus was using “an exaggerated form of speech” to make the point that we should make every effort to avoid sin.[2] We might wonder whether Jesus would actually “exaggerate” like this. But if we do it, why shouldn’t he? The challenge for us is to figure it out. I think the Bible can help us if we will pay close attention.

Another difficulty this passage presents us has to do with Jesus’ warning about stumbling. He begins with the image of being drowned in the sea with a huge stone around your neck (Mk 9:42). I think in this case it’s pretty obvious that Jesus is describing a fate that one would do anything to avoid. But we can get confused when he talks about going to “hell,” “to the unquenchable fire” (Mk 9:43). The word in the original is actually “Gehenna.” It was a familiar term in that day that referred to a valley near Jerusalem that was a burning trash dump filled with decaying bodies and rotting garbage. So I think we should not be surprised that Jesus would use an image that people of his day would find shocking as a warning against causing others to stumble or stumbling ourselves.[3] Jesus wasn’t speaking literally about the afterlife, he was painting a word picture to make a point: do everything you can to avoid this!

Another way to avoid stumbling here is to pay attention to what Jesus is getting at. His point is that, just as we would make every effort to avoid either of the “fates” he describes, so we should do everything possible to avoid either causing someone else to stumble, or stumbling ourselves. In the first place, he’s talking about the effects of his disciples’ thoughts of “greatness” on believers who might be vulnerable to stumbling in their faith. But Jesus also urged his disciples to beware of all possible temptations to stumble themselves. In both cases, I think Jesus made such a big deal about it because when we cause another to stumble we diminish them, and when we stumble we diminish ourselves. That’s something Jesus wants us to make every effort to avoid.

When I was younger, thoughts of practicing yoga as a “sport” were the furthest thing from my mind! Even though I’ve practiced yoga for ten years, I still “stumble” with some of the balance poses we do. The fact is that I still stumble in life as well, even though I’ve been working at this Christian thing for over 45 years! While Jesus uses strong language to warn us against stumbling, I don’t think he was demanding perfection. I think he was trying to impress upon us how important it is to avoid diminishing ourselves or someone else by our actions. We all stumble at times, but thankfully, as the Psalmist says, “though we stumble, we shall not fall headlong, for the Lord holds us by the hand” (Ps. 37:24).

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[1] © 2021 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 9/26/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] John Calvin, Commentary on a Harmony of the Evangelists Matthew, Mark, and Luke, vol. 1, p. 291.

[3] Cf. Calvin, Commentary on a Harmony, 285-86.

In the Wilderness

In the Wilderness

Mark 1:9-15[1]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[1] © 2021 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 2/21/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Not By Bread

Not By Bread

Luke 4:1-13[1]

In 1990, I was studying at a university in Western Germany, and I had the opportunity to take a mission trip to Romania. It was the year that the Wall came down, and most of the countries in Eastern Europe followed suit by opening their borders. The people of Romania overthrew their dictator, Nicholai Ceaușescu. It became apparent very quickly that the people of Romania had very little food, and so our church joined the many who took supplies to help out. During my trip, I met with a missionary in Vienna who was overseeing mission work in Eastern Europe, and he remarked that the church in the East under the deprivations of communism had flourished, while the church in Western Europe living in prosperity had declined drastically.

I’m afraid that same observation could be made about our society. In times when our people have been hard-pressed, they have tended to turn to the church for comfort and encouragement to endure. But as a society we have “enjoyed” several decades of prosperity. And the result of that prosperity is that the place of the church, the place of faith, and the place of God in our lives has eroded. Many think it has to do with certain political or social changes. I would say it’s much more fundamental. We have become convinced that we can find fulfillment in life by bread alone, so to speak. We have been converted to the dogma of the commercials we watch on TV: the more you have, the happier you’ll be. Ironically, I think we’d have to say that the opposite has actually been true.

Our Gospel lesson for today tells a story about how Jesus faced a similar, but much deeper temptation. It talks about an encounter that Jesus had with “the devil” after being tested for forty days.[2] Since Jesus had gone without food during that time, the initial opening for the test was fairly obvious—he was hungry! And in a subtle and seemingly innocent way, “the devil” suggests that if Jesus is really the Son of God, he could turn a stone into bread. In this way he could readily solve the problem of his hunger. It would seem harmless enough. If I had gone without food for an extended period of time and someone told me that I could turn a rock into a meal, I probably wouldn’t think twice about it. After all, what’s wrong with eating when you’re hungry?

But Jesus knew that there was much more at stake than the rumblings in his stomach. As the other tests Jesus faced make clear, “the devil” wasn’t just offering a suggestion about the best way to find a meal in the desert. The point of the tests that Jesus faced in the wilderness was about how he would use his power as the Son of God.[3] Would he use it to gratify his own desires?[4] Would he use it to take a shortcut to ruling over the kingdoms of this world that would bypass his death on the cross?[5] Would he win the people’s loyalty by showing them a spectacular sign?[6]

Jesus knew what was going on behind these tests. He knew that the point of all of the tests, even the one about feeding himself, was to determine whether he would follow God’s ways and God’s purpose for his life, or whether he would see to his own needs, thank you very much. I think that’s why he responds to the test by quoting the scripture: “One does not live by bread alone.” He is quoting from Moses’ teachings about the lessons of Israel’s own experience in the wilderness. And one of those lessons is that God had fed them with manna so they would understand that “one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord” (Deut. 8:3). In other words, during their forty years in the wilderness, they were supposed to learn to trust in and depend on God.

Like the people of Israel, Jesus found himself in the wilderness, at the mercy of the elements, unable even to provide for his most basic needs. This was not an accident. Moses says that the purpose for Israel’s wilderness wandering was “in order to humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commandments” (Deut. 8:2). I think something similar was going on with Jesus.[7] He had already been filled with the Spirit at his baptism. Luke’s Gospel emphasizes repeatedly the fact that Jesus was able to carry out his ministry through the power of the Spirit. But the more important issue was how he would use that power.[8] The fundamental test Jesus faced throughout his ministry was whether he would use his power in a way that remained faithful to God’s ways and God’s purpose, which would lead him to a cross. Whereas Israel failed in the wilderness again and again, Jesus demonstrated decisively that he would indeed remain true to God and to God’s ways and God’s purpose.[9]

In our day, I’m afraid it’s very easy to believe those who tell us that God’s purpose is to give us health, wealth, happiness, prosperity—in short, everything our hearts could possibly desire. But if we’re honest with ourselves, we have to admit that we’ve all known the disappointment that comes from investing our hopes in gaining happiness from anything tangible. The reality is that when we try to find our ultimate satisfaction in life in the right relationship, or the right job, or the right paycheck, we learn again that “one does not live by bread alone.” It’s an incredibly simple lesson, but we have to keep learning it.[10] The things of this world, the trappings of our lives, the “stuff” we try to use to make ourselves happy ultimately fail to do so. While some of those things may be good and necessary, we cannot find true and lasting happiness “by bread alone.” Only God’s life and God’s ways can truly satisfy the deepest longings of our hearts.

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[1] ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 2/14/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Regarding “the devil” in this narrative and the question of whether or not one should see this as evidence for believing in a being responsible for evil in the world, I find the statement in Fred B. Craddock, Luke, 55 to be a succinct summary of what I would consider a “biblical view.” He says, “Scriptures variously characterize the power of evil in the world: tendencies within ourselves; a personal being outside ourselves, apparently a powerful angel gone astray; a cosmic power; and organized forces arrayed against the will of God for the world. In whatever images or concepts, Scripture agrees with experience that there is in us and among us strong opposition to love, health, wholeness, and peace.” If there is a personal being or an “apparently powerful angel gone astray,” it is essential to emphasize that one should not “believe in” that being. “Believing” is something that Christianity has always reserved in the Apostles’ Creed for God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Hence I speak of “the devil” in quotation marks and without capitalizing the reference!

[3] Cf. Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke, 191-92: “the testing conducted by the devil seeks specifically to controvert Jesus’ role as Son of God either by disallowing the constraints of that relationship or by rejecting it outright.”

[4] On the first temptation, cf. R. Alan Culpepper, “The Gospel According to Luke,” New Interpreters Bible IX: 99. He says, “Jesus is challenged to repeat the sign of God’s provision for the people, but if he makes bread for himself, he abuses his sonship by serving his own needs rather than depending on God’s provision for his needs.”

[5] On the second temptation, see Culpepper, “Gospel According to Luke,” NIB IX: 99: “The second temptation is the gain of power by compromise.”  On the question of whether the devil actually possessed the “authority” he offered Jesus, cf. Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke I-IX, “Jesus rejects the challenge to worship anything other than Yahweh, his Father, and makes it clear that his mission is solely to see that God’s kingship is established over all. Yahweh is the sole king of the world; he alone is to be served.” Cf. also F. Bovon, & H. Koester, Luke 1: A commentary on the Gospel of Luke 1:1–9:50, 144, where he says that this could either reflect the “pessimistic view” that “that the princes receive power and glory neither directly from God nor from the people, but from the devil, and that they therefore honor him, not God, or, in nonmythological language, that they exercise their power in their own interests, not in the service of others” or that we are meant to understand that “the devil is also a liar, and Luke may well accept in a different context the Hebrew Bible belief in God as the source of political authority.”

[6] On the third temptation, see Culpepper, “Gospel According to Luke,” NIB IX: 100: “This time the temptation is to put God’s promises to the test. Specifically, Jesus was tempted to call upon God to deliver him from death in Jerusalem. Ironically, as every Christian reader knows, Jesus would eventually face death in Jerusalem, and when he did he would choose not his own deliverance but faithfulness to his Father’s will (see 22:42). … Jesus would fulfill his divine sonship not by escaping death but by accepting death and defeating it. Unlike Israel of old, Jesus refused to put God to the test (Deut 6:16).”

[7] Cf. Green, Gospel of Luke, 192, where he says that there is a “far-reaching similarity” between Israel’s testing and Jesus’: “According to Deuteronomy, (1) Israel was allowed to hunger in order to learn that one does not live by bread alone (8:3); (2) Israel was instructed to worship the one and only God, and not to follow after any other god (6:4-15); and (3) Israel was commanded not to put the Lord God to the test (6:16). In each case, however, Israel failed in their obedience to God … .” Cf. similarly, Craddock, Luke, 54.

[8] Cf. Green, Gospel of Luke, 191.  He says that in the narrative of Jesus’ baptism, he had already demonstrated “his competence, indicating his possession of the requisite credentials, power, and authority to set forth on his mission. But these are not enough. They must be matched with Jesus’ positive response to God’s purpose. Hence, here Jesus will signal his alignment with God’s will in a way that surpasses the evidence already provided by his display of submission to God at his baptism.” Cf. also Culpepper, “Gospel According to Luke,” NIB IX: 97, who adds the dimension of correcting any “messianic expectations” Jesus may have met: “Having established the sonship of Jesus, Luke turns immediately, before the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry, to the story of the temptations. On one level the story describes Jesus’ response to calls for misuse of his power and sonship. On another level, the story educates, disabusing the reader of any expectation that Jesus would manifest his sonship by a series of theatrical demonstrations. The work of the Spirit requires faithfulness; neither compromise with Satan nor concessions to popular demands could be allowed.” See further Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ, 92-93, where he says that “the messianic kingdom of Jesus, which is put to the test through temptations, and which is more precisely defined in these temptations; for the possibilities which the tempter offers Jesus are ways of seizing messianic power over Israel and the nations.” He continues by saying that in the temptation “his passion in helplessness is prefigured: his victory comes through suffering and death. At his triumphal entry into Jerusalem he offers the people no bread, at his entry into the temple he does not perform the messianic sign, and before the Roman Pilate he does not call on the heavenly legions in order to win a military victory. From the story of the temptations the way to the cross follows. But the way to the cross is the way which God’s Spirit ‘leads’ Jesus.” Cf. similarly, Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 4.1:264.

[9] Cf. Green, Gospel of Luke, 196: “By facing these tests and proving his fidelity, Jesus has demonstrated unequivocally his faithful obedience to God and thus his competence to engage in ministry publicly as God’s Son.” Cf. also Fitzmyer, Luke I-IX, 510: “The three scenes then depict Jesus as the Son of God obedient to his Father’s will and refusing to be seduced into using his power or authority as Son for any reason other than that for which he has been sent.”

[10] On our experience of temptation, see Culpepper, “Gospel According to Luke,” NIB IX: 101, where he says, “The temptations we experience are often not so clearly recognizable. The choice is not between good and bad but between bad and worse or good and better. … Christian ethics does not come prepackaged. The call is not to adherence to a list of rules and regulations but to faithfulness to the call and purposes of God.

The "Voice" is a Liar

The “Voice” is a Liar

Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7; Matthew 4:1-11[1]

  Among the many voices that compete for our attention in this world, some of the most difficult ones are the voices inside us.  We all have those inner voices.  You know them as well as I do.  There is the voice of fear that says, “There’s no place I can feel really safe.”  Or the voice of condemnation that says, “No matter what I do, it will never be good enough.”  Or the voice of shame that says, “I’ll never be worthy of love.”  Those voices are drilled into us by our culture, and they’re incredibly hard to ignore, let alone unlearn.  But those voices are all lying to us.  Because the truth is that we are already safe in God’s hands; everything we do is good enough for the God who loves us without our having to do anything to be “worthy.”

  There’s another voice that we all have faced from time to time.  It’s the voice of temptation.  It’s the voice that says, “You know you want it, so go for it.”  It’s a voice that comes to us in situations that can be mundane as well as  those that have life-long consequences.  Essentially, it’s the same voice our original parents heard in the Garden.  When the tempter came to them, he lied to them.  But he did so in ways that made it really hard to recognize that he was lying to them.  Notice how cunning the tempter was.  First, he distorted God’s original instruction to them.[2]  God’s voice said “you may freely eat of every tree of the garden” (Gen. 2:16), except for one.[3]  But the tempter made it sound as if any restriction was unfair: “Did God say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden’?” (3:1).

  Next the tempter made God out to be a liar.  God had warned Adam that if they ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil they would die (2:17).  But the tempter flatly contradicted that: “You will not die” (3:4).  And, in fact they didn’t die the moment they ate.  But they did bring death into that beautiful garden.[4]  As if that were not enough, the tempter proceeded to call God’s motives into question, implying that God was trying to keep something great and wonderful from them: “God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (3:5).[5]  The truth of the matter is that they were already “like God” in all the ways that mattered, because they had been created in God’s image (Gen. 1:26-27).  But the voice of temptation always makes it hard to recognize that it’s lying. Just like the other voices that can trouble us, the voice of temptation is a liar.  It’s always a liar.[6]

  In our other temptation story for today, Jesus seems to handle the tempter’s voice with great ease, as if the temptations presented to him were no real challenge at all.  And yet, if we were to think that, we would miss an important truth about this temptation story.  As the writer to the Hebrews puts it, Jesus is “one who in every respect has been tested as we are” (Heb. 4:15).[7]  If we think that he didn’t want to turn those stones to bread after fasting for forty days and nights, it’s only because we’ve never fasted that long. 

  Interestingly, the tempter’s strategy was the same with Jesus as it had been in garden.  First, he planted a seed of doubt about whether Jesus could trust the voice at his Baptism: “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased” (Mt. 3:17).[8]  The tempter tried to get Jesus to doubt that declaration by talking him into indulging his hunger: “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread” (Mt. 4:3).  But Jesus responded with the voice of truth from the Torah: “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (4:4, quoting Dt. 8:3).[9] 

  Next, the tempter shifts to the strategy of distorting God’s voice.  He took Jesus to the pinnacle of the Temple and quoted from the Psalms: “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone’” (4:6, quoting Ps. 91:11-12).  But despite the fact that Jesus had the need for validation just like every other human being, he also knew that this wasn’t the way to get it.  And so he turned again to the voice of truth in the Torah: “Do not put the Lord your God to the test” (4:7, quoting Dt. 6:16).[10]

  Finally, the tempter goes all out and challenges not only God’s motives but also Jesus’ intentions.  Jesus had come to transform the “Kingdom of this world into the Kingdom of our Lord” (Rev. 11:15) by stripping the power from evil on the cross.  He knew this was the reason God had sent him in the first place.  So the tempter offered Jesus an “easier” path: showing him all the kingdoms of the world he said, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me” (4:9).[11]  As if they were his to give!  And as if it was not Jesus’ destiny to become the one at whose name “every knee shall bow” as a result of his death on the cross.[12]  But Jesus saw through the tempter’s ruse and again answered with the voice of truth from the Torah: “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him” (4:10, quoting Dt. 6:13).  As in the story of the temptation in the Garden, so here the tempter was a liar.  In every scheme, every pretense, every aspect of the sham he tried to perpetrate, the voice of the tempter was lying.

  That is true for us as well.  As we enter the season of Lent, I think it would be helpful to take a look at how well we tell the difference between the voices that are lying to us and the those that speak truth.  It’s never easy, because the lying voices play on our doubts and our weaknesses and our failures in an attempt to convince us they’re telling us the real truth.  But in the end, those voices are always lying to us.  The voice that speaks truth is the one that tells us we’re accepted and loved.  The voice that speaks truth is the one that reminds us that we are precious and of inestimable worth in God’s sight.[13]  The voice that speaks truth is the one that points us toward what is good for us, and right, and life-giving.  That’s the voice we need to be listening for.  That’s the voice that will help us recognize that the other voice is a liar.

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[1] © 2014 Alan Brehm.  A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 3/9/2014 at First Presbyterian Church of Dickinson, TX.

[2] Cf. Walter Brueggemann, Genesis, 47, where he points out that the interplay in this passage “serves to invert the realities ordained by God."  He also says (p. 48), that in the tempter’s approach, “there’s just enough of a twist to miss the point” of God’s original voice.

[3] Cf. Terence E. Fretheim, “The Book of Genesis,” New Interpreters Bible I:351: “To be truly a creature entails limits; to honor limits becomes necessary if creation will develop as God intends.  Yet, while the language takes the form of command, the issue involves trust in the word of God.” At the same time, the freedom to disobey was also a part of the creation (p. 365): “The temptation to reach beyond the limits of creatureliness belongs to created existence for the sake of human integrity and freedom.” Cf. similarly, Brueggemann, 48: the matter of death in the original prohibition “was not a threat but a candid acknowledgement of a boundary of life.”

[4] Cf. Fretheim, “Genesis” NIB I:352, where he points out that they were already mortal beings, so “It may be that death (and life) has a comprehensive meaning in this story ..., associated with the breakdown of relationships to God, to each other, and to the created order.”  Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 3.2.607, is more direct when he says at the conclusion of a long exposition that “the finitude of human life stands in fact in the shadow of its guilt. What else can death be for sinful man but the sign of God’s judgment, and therefore—if man is indeed not created to be a sinner or to suffer God’s judgment—not a divinely willed and created determination natural to his being, but an alien intrusion?”  To be sure, Barth’s conclusions are heavily influenced by Pauline theology, and especially by Barth’s understanding of Jesus’ death on the cross.

[5] Cf. Fretheim, “Genesis” NIB I:361: “The serpent engages in no coercion here, no arm-twisting, no enticement through presentation of fruit from the tree; everything happens through words.  The word of the serpent ends up putting the word of God in question.”  And he points out that the question is whether they can trust that God has their best interests at heart in restricting them from this particular tree.

[6] Cf. Brueggemann, 52, who points out that the crux of this temptation was about trust in God.  He says, “the God announced in this story is not a petty god who jealously guards holy secrets and who eagerly punishes the disobedient.”  Rather the point is that “there is something to life which remains hidden and inscrutable, and which will not be trampled upon by human power or knowledge.”

[7] Cf. Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew, 26, where he says that the “basic underlying temptation” that Jesus shared with all the ones we face is “the temptation to treat God as less than God.” Cf. also M. Eugene Boring, “The Gospel of Matthew,” New Interpreters Bible VIII:165: here Matthew depicts Jesus as “one who fully shares the weakness of our human situation (cf. Phil 2:5-11; Heb. 2:5-18).  The picture of Jesus as the obedient Son of God does not abolish or compromise the image of Jesus as truly human.”

[8] Cf. W. D. Davies and D. C. Allison, Matthew 1-7, 367: the question at issue in the temptation is “How should Jesus exercise his power as Son of God?  The answer is, In obedience to God.” Cf.  also Hare, Matthew, 23; Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ, 92-93.

[9] Cf. Hare, Matthew, 24: unlike Israel in the wilderness, this “Son of God” “refuses to give way to mistrust.”  Cf. also Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7, 362.

[10] Cf. Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7, 367: “The Father in heaven is not to be compelled; rather should every deed be an obedient reaction to what he has willed, a submissive response to divine initiative.” Cf. also Hare, Matthew, 25

[11] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics IV.1, 260-63, where he points out that all the temptations were intended to persuade Jesus to violate God’s purpose.  Cf. similarly, Moltmann, Way of Jesus, 93: “Filled with the Spirit, Jesus becomes the messianic Son of God; but through the temptations into which this same Spirit leads him, he is denied the economic, political and religious means for a ‘seizure of power’. Here, that is to say, his passion in helplessness is prefigured: his victory comes through suffering and death.”

[12] Cf. Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7, 369-70: Jesus rejects this temptation because “Only after the passion, and then only from the Father in heaven, can Jesus accept all authority.”
[13] Cf. Jurgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 187: "Human life has eternal value because it is loved and accepted by God."

My God In Whom I Trust

My God In Whom I Trust

Ps 91; Lk. 4:1-13[1]

  Trust is a complicated thing.  It takes a great deal of work to earn it.  It can be priceless, and once earned, it is something to cherish.  But it can also be incredibly fragile. After working years to build trust with someone, just one word or deed can shatter it.  And once broken, trust is not easily renewed.  Sometimes it’s impossible to rebuild broken trust.  Trust can be extremely complicated.  And yet we speak of trusting God as a part of our faith in ways that seem to suggest that trust is not complicated at all, but rather very easy.  I’m not sure we’re giving enough respect to the importance of trust in our relationship with God when we do that.

  In a relationship, you build trust by getting to know another person.  You spend time together, you do favors for each other, give gifts, share life stories, and little by little you begin to trust the other person.  The more you take the risk to open yourself to that person and your vulnerability is met with a positive response, the more you trust.  But how exactly does one do that with a God whom Scripture calls the “immortal, invisible, God only wise” (1 Tim. 1:17). And we add in the hymn, “In light inaccessible hid from our eyes.”[2]  How do you build a relationship of trust with a God you can neither see, nor hear, nor touch? 

  There are some for whom it seems like the easiest thing in the world.  They will say that you do it just like you build any relationship--in this case by spending time reading Scripture and praying.  If we believe Scripture is God’s word to us and that praying is talking to God, then that makes sense.  And it works wonderfully for some people.  But for some of us, Scripture seems incredibly difficult to understand, and our prayers seem to go no further heavenward than the ceiling above us.  What do we do then?

  How do we reach a place where we can say, like the Psalmist says in our lesson for today, “My God, in whom I trust”?  Some of us may find that too much of a stretch.  Even the language of the Psalm seems to promise too much: If we make God our refuge, “no evil shall befall you” (Ps. 91:10).  What are we to make of this, especially in light of the fact that faithful believers throughout the ages have always suffered evil?  This points to a potential danger in the sweeping promises of the psalm.[3]  Even the tempter uses one of the promises of this very Psalm against Jesus in the wilderness! (Lk. 4:10-11, citing Ps. 91:11-12).  But I think it’s important to recognize that the Psalmist doesn’t promise that nothing bad will happen to us.  Notice that later the Psalmist assumes that the faithful will experience “trouble” in life (Ps. 91:15).  Rather than promising to exempt us from the bad things that can happen to good people, the Psalmist promises that there is nothing bad that can happen to us that God cannot ultimately turn into something good.[4]

  But the question remains, how do we learn to trust a God whom we can neither see nor hear nor touch?  I think it takes the courage to risk--to stake our lives on our belief in God.  It takes the kind of courage Jesus displayed in the wilderness.  His response to the tempter reveals that he was willing to place his fate in God’s hands, come what may.[5]  It takes the same courage Abraham had when he decided to trust God’s promise of a child and set out from his homeland to a place yet to be determined.  Did all the heroes of faith who took the risk of trusting God do so blindly?  I don’t think so.  I think this is one of the ways Scripture can help us the most.  Not with proof-texts that can be twisted the way the tempter twisted the Psalm lesson for today.  Rather, the Scriptures tell us stories of the way in which God was faithful to those who trusted him time and time again.  It tells us stories of people just like us who didn’t have some kind of storybook life but experienced the trials and challenges and risks we all do in life.  And because they had experienced God’s faithfulness in the past, they continued to trust.  Their experiences demonstrate an important lesson:  We can only learn by experience that God brings surprising good out of even the worst experiences of life.  We can only develop the heart of trust and the eyes of faith to see God’s love and grace and mercy in our lives when we look back in hindsight.[6]

  During this season of Lent, I think it is a good time to look back and to try to develop those eyes of faith.  It think it’s a good time to examine our trust in God.  By that I don’t mean whether we believe in the existence of a supreme being.  I mean it’s a good time to ask ourselves whether we trust God--whether we really trust God the way the Psalmist did, the way Jesus did.[7]  It takes courage to trust God.  It’s a risk.  But as St Paul reminds us, “no one who believes in him will be put to shame” (Rom. 10:11).  When we muster up the courage to take the risk of staking our lives on God and God alone, then we learn what it means to trust God enough to say, come what may, “My God in whom I trust.”

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[1] ©2013 Alan Brehm.  A Sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 2/17/2013.

[2] Walter Chalmers Smith, “Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise,” in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 263.

[3] Cf. James L. Mays, Psalms, 297: “The Psalm itself poses a danger.  Because its assurance of security is so comprehensive and confident, it is especially subject to the misuse that is a possibility for all religious claims, that of turning faith into superstition.”

[4] Cf. “The Study Catechism,” 1998, question 22.  Cf. also J. Clinton McCann, “The Book of Psalms,” New Interpreters Bible IV:1048, where he says, “We should not use Psalm 91 as a magical guarantee against danger, threat, or difficulty.  Rather, this psalm is a reminder to us that nothing ‘will be able to separate us from the love of God’ (Rom. 8:39 NRSV).” Cf. also H.-J. Kraus,  A Continental Commentary: Psalms 60–150, 225. Cf. further Marvin Tate, Psalms 51-100, 458: “The last words in the psalm are not spoken to God but are spoken by God to us” (citingBrueggemann, The Message of the Psalms, 157).

[5]Cf. Mays, Psalms, 298.  He says that  the temptation posed to Jesus “was to take the promised protection of God into the control of his own will and act. Cf. also R. Alan Culpepper, “The Gospel of Luke” New Interpreters Bible IX:100, where he observes that in his temptation experience Jesus fulfills “the command that was at the heart of Judaism,” the command to love God with all one’s being. Cf. further F. Bovon, Luke 1: A commentary on the Gospel of Luke 1:1–9:50, 145.

[6] Cf. Tate, Psalms 51-100, 459: “We are challenged to ground our endeavors in trust in Yahweh, a trust which will not fail and which leads us along a way where we will see more and more of the saving work of God until finally our knowledge will be complete.”

[7] Cf. Mays, Psalms, 298: “Real trust does not seek to test God or prove his faithfulness.”

“Time to Reset”

Phil. 3:17-4:1; Luke 4:1-13[1]

I don’t know if any of you have ever been lost in the wilderness, but I have. Twice. The first time was when I attended the 1975 Boy Scout World Jamboree in Scandinavia. Our campsite was in Lillehammer, Norway, where the winter Olympics would later be held. Part of the jamboree experience is to mingle with scouts from other countries. Some Scouter got the bright idea that they should have us all go on a hike in the wilderness. Not with our own patrols and troops, but in “international” patrols made up of scouts from different countries. My patrol—like all of them—was led by a Scandinavian scout. There were a couple of us Americans, a German, and I think a couple of French scouts. And none of us all spoke the same language! It’s no wonder we got lost! Obviously, we found our way!

If you’ve never tried the sport called “orienteering,” let me tell you that it’s not as easy as you might think. And when you put it all in the wilderness, and you are forced to find your own way, it’s even more challenging! You may or may not know that all compasses are a little “off.” The reason for this is that magnetic north is not quite the same as “true north.” So if you’re trying to find your way in the wilderness with nothing but a compass and a map, depending on where you are in the world you have to make sure to adjust your compass to the “declination” of that area. It can vary from 0 degrees to as much as 40 degrees. A declination of 1 degree will probably not get you lost in the wilderness—but 10 degrees surely will! Many’s the eager hiker who, forgetting to take that important step to reset the compass, wound up getting lost in some wilderness!

It may seem strange for a protestant congregation in the Reformed tradition to observe Lent. When I grew up as a Methodist kid in a small town in South Texas, Lent meant that we had fish in the cafeteria on Fridays—for some strange reason. John Calvin positively rails against those in his day who sought to imitate Jesus’ 40-day fast. He calls it “a wicked and abominable mockery of Christ,” and “an intolerable outrage” against God, Christ, and the Gospel![2] Of course, what Calvin objected to was not the fasting itself, but the Roman Catholic Church and just about everything it stood for!

Jesus’ temptation gives us some clues as to why we do things like observe Lent. In a very real sense, observing Lent is about reminding ourselves that “one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord” and that we are to “worship the Lord your God and serve only him.” The temptations Jesus faced, in and of themselves, don’t seem to be all that bad. What’s wrong with turning stones to bread, especially if you haven’t eaten for over a month! That was the temptation of “do it yourself.” And what is wrong with taking a pragmatic approach to spirituality? Instead of all the mess of the cross and the ambiguity of spirituality, Jesus (supposedly) could have taken a short cut. “Why not set up a real kingdom of God on earth?”[3] That was the temptation of “don’t wait.” And then there was the “leap of faith” that Jesus was to take, citing chapter and verse from Psalm 91 all the way down! What’s wrong with demonstrating to one and all that “the Lord indeed is God” like Elijah did (1 Kg. 18:39)? What does it matter if it really boils down to trying to prove ourselves, not God? In each case, Jesus was presented with something that might in seem harmless. But in each case, what it amounted to was violating God’s purpose.[4]

Lent helps us to make sure that our compasses point toward “true north.” There is a sense in which our discipleship is like a compass—we are all a little off. So we always have to reset our bearings to account for the fact of “drift” in our discipleship! Observing Lent helps us do that. It adjusts our focus. It helps us to see through the temptations that lead us off the path—like the compromises that seem harmless but violate God’s purpose, the lies we want to be true so badly that we believe them, or the gods we have made out of things that cannot give life. Just like a real compass, just a few degrees off can lead us far astray! Abstaining from something that we have become used to is a way of “resetting the compass of our discipleship.”[5]

William Willimon, retired Dean of the Duke University Chapel, says that one of the challenges we face as Christians is to continually orient our lives to the stories and hopes and faith of scripture, rather than the failed ideologies of our time.[6] Lent helps us do that. It helps us to reorient our lives toward the ultimate story that defines us all—the transformation of all things through the death and resurrection of Jesus the Christ! The Apostle Paul speaks of this in his letter to the Philippians. He reminds the Philippians that we have our citizenship in “heaven,” which means that our lives are oriented in a different direction than the one all the lies and false gods point toward.

The second time I got lost was on a family camping trip about 15 years ago. We were at Bastrop State Park, and we took a path that basically ran out in the middle of nowhere. I had a crude map of the park, but I wished I had a more accurate one. It didn’t take me long to recognize that we were lost. What I did know was my directions (based on the position of the Sun), and that if we kept the Sun to our right we would wind up on a main road not far from our campsite. We had to make our way through some not-so-smooth terrain, but we finally found the road and made it back to camp. Observing Lent reminds us that it is all too easy for us to lose our way, especially if we’re relying on faulty maps or directions. I challenge you all to take the opportunity to reset your compasses over the next few weeks.

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[1] A Sermon preached 3/4/07 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX.

[2] John Calvin, Commentary on a Harmony of the Evangelists, on Matt. 4:1; accessed at http://www.ccel.org/c/calvin/comment3/comm_vol31/htm/ix.xxxi.htm.

[3] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics IV.1, 261.

[4] Barth, CD IV.1, 260-63

[5] Stephen Cottrell, I Thirst: The Cross—The Great Triumph of Love, 12.

[6] William Willimon, Pastor: The Theology and Practice of Ordained Ministry, 99-101.