The Waking Dreamer: Trust

Showing posts with label Trust. Show all posts

Thursday, June 11, 2026

Casting Our Cares on God

1 Peter 5:6-7[1]

Life brings us all kinds of unexpected experiences. Some of them are better than we could ever possibly imagine. I can still remember holding my oldest son Derek on the day he was born. He’s pushing 40 these days, and there’ve been a lot of wonderful memories with him and with my other children since then, but that memory stands out. It was fulfilling and awe-inspiring at the same time to hold my firstborn son. Other experiences in our lives are worse than we could ever possibly imagine. I never dreamed I would be divorced on that day when I was holding my son. It just wasn’t something I could have even wrapped my head around. I can’t say that I was ever a perfect husband, but I gave my all and my best to my marriage. Unfortunately, the sad truth is that these things just happen to us sometimes.

Of course, there have been a lot of experiences that fall somewhere in between “the best day of my life” and the “worst day of my life.” Many of them have been good and wonderful. Others have been stressful, hurtful, discouraging, and even frightening. Through it all, like many of you, my testimony is that God has always been faithful. Always! And through it all, I’ve continually tried to follow the instruction of our Scripture reading for today from 1 Peter to “Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you” (1 Pet 5:7, NLT). Those of us who first learned this Scripture verse decades ago will remember it in the older Bible translations: “casting all your cares on him, for he cares for you.” However you translate it, it’s an important part of the life of faith that Peter was trying to teach to the believers of his day. We learn to trust God precisely by entrusting to him the cares and worries of our lives.

In those older translations, it may be easier to see that enacting our faith by entrusting all our cares and worries into God’s care is connected with our overall approach to life. In the preceding verses, Peter makes that connection clear: “all of you, dress yourselves in humility as you relate to one another, for ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.’ So humble yourselves under the mighty power of God, and at the right time he will lift you up in honor” (1 Pet 5:5-6, NLT). And then he goes on to say, “Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.” In the context, Peter is addressing relationships within their community of faith. But he’s talking about principles that apply generally to the life of faith. The faith to entrust all our cares and worries into God’s care is inherently connected to the attitude of humility Peter encourages them to practice. You really can’t have one without the other!

I’m not sure that we always make that connection these days. Part of the problem is that we need a working knowledge of the Bible do so. And there are a lot of those connections in the Psalms. That’s why the Psalms have been viewed by the faithful throughout the ages not only as an important source for learning to pray, but also for learning faith. The passage I think of when I read our lesson from 1 Peter is Psalm 55:22, “Give your burdens to the Lord, and he will take care of you” (NLT). Again, many of us may remember that verse in a more traditional version: “Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you.” What we may not know is that assurance in the Psalm was set in the context of a prayer for deliverance from friends who turned out to be enemies. If you’ve ever experienced that, you may know how deeply unsettling it can be, and how hard it can be to entrust your “burdens” and your “cares” to God when it happens to you!

I’ve mentioned before that John Calvin connected this passage to a different Psalm. He saw it as a reflection of Psalm 38. That Psalm has a similar setting. The Psalmsinger is at wit’s end because he’s being attacked by those who were “foes without cause” and who had repaid him “evil for good” (Ps 38:19-20). His suffering was so great that he could say, “I am utterly spent and crushed” by the turmoil he was undergoing (Ps 38:8). It was so great that even his friends and family kept their distance from him, likely only increasing the burden (Ps. 38:11). It was in that setting that the Psalmsinger reminded himself and us that God sustains us even in the most difficult of times, even in times that are harder than we could ever imagine. He says it this way, “For I hope in You, O Lord; You will answer, O Lord my God” (Ps 38:15, NASB).

One of the challenging twists in this Psalm is that the Psalmsinger sees all of this turmoil and hardship as “discipline” from the Lord! Psalm 38 opens with a plea: “O Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger or discipline me in your wrath” (Ps 38:1). We’re familiar with the idea that God “disciplines those he loves” (Prov 3:12). But associating that with God’s anger and wrath may not only be unfamiliar, it may be troubling to us. I know when I was in college, and I read Jonathan Edwards’ sermon “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,” which is widely considered to be one of the great American sermons of all time, I found the image of God portrayed there to be disturbing to say the least. It was as if God took delight in dangling “sinners” over the “open fires” of “hell.” When we read about God’s anger and God’s wrath toward his people in the Hebrew Bible, it may cause us to wonder how much we can really trust that God’s love for us never fails!

But here’s where it all ties together. In the Hebrew Bible, God’s “anger” and “wrath” are a kind of “last resort” response when God’s people stubbornly refuse to follow God’s ways. Paul says that when anyone refuses to honor God as God, he “hands them over” to the consequences of their choices (Rom 1?). The language the Bible uses for that is “pride.” I don’t think the Bible is talking about a natural human sense of satisfaction we gain from a job well done, or from seeing someone we love succeed. I don’t think it refers to the “pride” we may feel when hold our newborn children and grandchildren. I think “pride” in the Bible refers to when we know what the right thing to do is, and we simply refuse to do it. It refers to a deliberate rejection of God and God’s ways. “Pride” is a deliberate refusal to honor God as God by humbling ourselves enough to not only hear God’s truth but also to repent when we’ve gone astray. Simply put, “Pride” means intentionally rejecting God’s will for our lives.

That brings us back to the connection between humility and faith in our lesson from 1 Peter for today. Peter reminds us that we cannot practice the faith to entrust all the cares and worries of our lives into God’s care without humility! And that’s the lesson that John Calvin draws from this passage. He reminds us that those who are humble are those who recognize that they cannot rely on their own abilities or insights or resources alone, but rather they seek their refuge and help and strength “from God alone,”[2] especially in times of trouble. I’ll be the first one to admit that’s easier said than done! But it seems to me that’s the heart of the challenge that our lesson from Peter presents to us today. It’s a challenge to set aside our natural inclination to believe that we know what’s best, to think that we can fix things ourselves, or to insist that if we could just get everything under our control, it would all work out fine. Rather, learning to cast all our cares on God, as Peter instructs us, requires us to learn the lesson of the Psalms, that we can only entrust our lives into God’s care when we humble ourselves enough to recognize that only God can sustain us through the twist and turns this life can bring our way!

[2] John Calvin, Commentaries on the Catholic Epistles, 148.

Wednesday, May 13, 2026

Doing Good

1 Peter 2:13-25[1]

Many of us know the Scripture verse that says, “Vengeance is mine, says the Lord” (Rom 12:19). But I would say that we can be obsessed with taking our own vengeance. In some segments of our society, “getting even” is just what you do. If you doubt that revenge is something that infects our culture, I would challenge you to take a look at how many of the most popular movies are based on the premise of someone taking revenge. It’s always justified, of course, but it’s still revenge. And do we enjoy watching those movies because we like to see the “bad guys” get what’s coming to them at the hands of the “good guys” who’ve been wronged. Somehow it reinforces our ideas about the way life “ought” to be.

But life doesn’t always work the way it “ought” to. There are all kinds of ways in which we can find ourselves wronged. More than that, in our violent world, there is no shortage of harm that gets inflicted on people who don’t deserve it. But revenge never solves anything. Those movies we like to watch always end with the one who is wronged walking away from vengeance that’s completed. And that’s the end of the story. All’s right with the world again, supposedly. But what they don’t show is what happens in real life. Revenge, especially when it involves violence, only breeds more violence. Revenge only leads to more revenge. As many have said it, “An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind”!

In our Scripture lesson for today, Peter calls believers to “follow Christ” by enduring the wrongful suffering they may have to face in the same way that Jesus did. Peter calls them to entrust their lives to God’s care. He says it this way: “For God called you to do good, even if it means suffering, just as Christ suffered for you. He is your example, and you must follow in his steps” (1 Pet 1:21, NLT). And Peter illustrates what that looks like, especially when someone does you wrong, by the way Jesus responded when he was wronged. He says that Jesus “did not retaliate when he was insulted, nor threaten revenge when he suffered. He left his case in the hands of God, who always judges fairly” (1 Pet 1:22, NLT).

Now, there are some other things Peter says in this Scripture lesson that may sound confusing to us. He talks about submitting to “human authority” in a way that may not work for us. We know that we’re all responsible to obey the rule of law, but in a Democracy we all have the privilege and the responsibility of voicing our disagreement with the authorities when their actions seem unjust. Perhaps more troubling is the way Peter talks about slaves obeying their masters even if those masters are “cruel,” even if they’re beaten by their masters! I would say that we believe it’s never acceptable for anyone to undergo mistreatment for any reason. And we certainly don’t believe people should be “beaten for doing wrong.” So some of Peter’s language may sound confusing, if not offensive.

What we have to remember is that there really was no such thing as “human rights” in those days. Those first Christians lived in an empire, not a democracy. They were subject to the “powers that be”, and those powers exercised their rule absolutely and with violence. The believers Peter was addressing really had no choice but to submit to those who held power over them. That applies even and especially to those who were slaves. Slavery was a long-established feature of the ancient world. Many have wondered why Jesus and the early Christian leaders like Peter didn’t do more to overturn slavery. But we have to remember that the church was a fledgling movement on the margins of society. Their power to effect that kind of social change was limited.

Rather than risk the violence that would be the inevitable response of any empire to those who resisted, apostles like Peter encouraged Christians to endure whatever mistreatment they had to face with patience, looking to Jesus’ example. That brings us back to our focal verse for today: “God called you to do good, even if it means suffering, just as Christ suffered for you. He is your example, and you must follow in his steps” (1 Pet 2:21, NLT). And Peter specifically refers to the example Jesus set by dying for us on the cross! When Jesus bore that undeserved suffering, he did it because that’s the way God brings wholeness and new life to this world. And so the cross was not just Jesus’ path; it’s the path that he marked out for all of us. When we respond to the wrongs and hardships of our lives with patience, our suffering “joins with and continues the sufferings of Christ” (Col 1:24). Our willingness to follow Jesus’ example and suffer patiently without taking revenge contributes to the healing work God is doing in the whole world to this day!

But equally, how we respond when someone provokes us or attacks us unjustly also shapes who we are. When we take revenge on others in any form, the bitterness that drives that act takes root in our lives. Taking revenge by attacking someone verbally is especially challenging. Especially when we’re talking about others behind their backs. In all too many cases, we can do it and get away with it without any apparent consequences. But when we give in to the impulse to take revenge in that way, we’re not only harming the one we’re attacking. We’re also harming those who hear and ourselves as well. That’s because we’re reinforcing the pattern of getting even as a habit, both in our lives and in the lives of those who hear us. It just makes revenge and bitterness take root more deeply in our lives. And we’re all more likely to continue taking revenge in that way.

But our Scripture lesson calls us to a different way. It calls us to follow Jesus’ example and to obey God’s call to “do good” and not do harm. When we do that, we not only contribute to the fulfillment of God’s work in the world. We also learn what it means to truly entrust our lives to God’s care. When our lives are in God’s care, we don’t have to take revenge! We show that faith when we learn be grateful for all that we may have to undergo in this life. As one of my heroes in the faith, Henri Nouwen, puts it, when we can “look at everything that has brought us to where we are now and trust that we will soon see in it the guiding hand of a loving God,” then we can find the gift in every experience of our lives.[2]

I know that may sound crazy. How can some of the things we have had to endure ever be a “gift”? It comes back to truly entrusting our lives to Gods’ care, the way Jesus did. When we do that, we can affirm that somehow, someway God takes everything that happens to us and uses it for good in our lives. That can be especially hard when we might believe we’ve been “wronged.” That kind of faith is what gives us the strength to respond to everything in this life, even and especially when we may be wronged in a way we don’t deserve, the way Jesus did. We can not only refrain from taking revenge, which can be so easy and so habitual for us, but maybe we can take a step further and actually learn to forgive as Jesus did. Jesus forgave those who crucified him. That’s a high level of faith. I don’t think we’re going to learn that easily or quickly. But our Scripture lesson calls us to follow Jesus’ example. By entrusting our lives to God’s care we develop the strength to do just that, to “follow in Jesus’ steps” and obey God’s calling to “do good” and not harm in this world.

[1] © Alan Brehm 2026. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 4/26/2026 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Henri J.M. Nouwen, Bread for the Journey: A Daybook of Wisdom and Faith, January 12: "The Spiritual Work of Gratitude."

Tuesday, May 05, 2026

Always in God's Care

Always in God’s Care

Psalm 31[1]

This morning I’d like to share with you another of my occasional stories about my experience with a particular passage of Scripture. I’d like to share with you my journey with Psalm 31. Like many of you, I probably first heard the words “Into your hands I commend my Spirit” from the story of Jesus’ death on the cross in Luke’s Gospel (Lk 23:46). My first serious Bible was a King James Version, and it had every verse divided separately, so it was hard to tell when people in the New Testament were quoting from the Old Testament. I soon switched to the New International Version, and they print things differently, so you can tell when someone is quoting from the Old Testament. That’s probably where I first noticed that Jesus was quoting from the Psalm. I don’t remember the exact timeframe for this, but it was a while ago.

I took my first Hebrew class in College, and then I took the required year of Hebrew in Seminary. But I found Hebrew to be harder and more confusing than Greek, and I wanted to try to master it. So I took a “Hebrew Exegesis” class to help level up my skills. It wasn’t until I started digging into the Hebrew Bible more consistently when I was in my mid- to late-twenties that I began to notice some interesting things going on with the language of the Hebrew Bible that weren’t always reflected in the English translations. And I was especially drawn to the Psalms. Along with Isaiah, they’re probably my favorite part of the Old Testament.

A case in point is the English translation of Psalm 31:5, “Into your hands I commend my Spirit.” It sounds like a prayer someone might pray when they’re dying. That’s likely influenced by the fact that Jesus prayed that prayer as he was dying. But just the language of “giving up” one’s “spirit” seems to lend itself to that understanding. When I read the verse with that in mind, I’m not sure I really paid all that much attention to the rest of the Psalm.

It was during the year that I spent living and studying in Germany in 1989-90 that I really began digging into the Psalms. One of the things I discovered about Psalm 31 is that the Hebrew word typically translated in English as “spirit” here refers to the psalmsinger’s whole life. That insight enabled me to read Psalm 31:5 more like “Into your hands I commend my life,” or as the Good News Version we read today puts it, “I place myself in your care.” It helped me see that, at least in the original context of the Psalm this is a prayer for living!

That helped me to hear the words of the whole of Psalm 31 better. A lot of us still have a problem with just lifting out verses of the Bible that we like. The reason that’s a problem is because we’re meant to read the whole Bible. And in this case, that means we’re meant to read Psalm 31 as a whole. The Psalm as a whole is the prayer of a person of faith struggling with the painful and sometimes unfair ways people can treat us. And as I mentioned above, Psalm 31:5 is not a prayer for dying, but a prayer for living with faith in God, no matter. We see that in other ways in the Psalm. The psalmsinger recounts all the hardships of his life, enemies who sought to undo him, the anxiety and sorrow he experienced from opponents. And yet, in spite of all the afflictions he endured, at the end of the day he could pray, “my times are in your hand” (Ps. 31:15). Or, as the Good News Version translates it, “I am always in your care.” With all of that in mind, it’s hard not to conclude that the whole Psalm is a prayer of trust, a prayer of confidence in the “faithful God” (Ps. 31:5). And the prayer “into your hands I commend my spirit” is a motto for living, not a prayer for dying.

In Psalm 31, as in other Psalms, the psalmsinger expresses the decision to entrust his life—his whole life—into God’s hands. That’s not an easy decision to make. Most of us like to keep the “important parts” of our lives in our control. But when try to do that, we learn that there is so much about life that is outside our control. For me, knowing that we can entrust all of that, all the things that seem too big for us, to God’s loving care relieves us of the heavy burdens we try to carry ourselves.

One of the last stages in my journey with Psalm 31 was when I read through the commentary on the Psalms by James Luther Mays in the Presbyterian commentary series called Interpretation. Yes, I did actually read through a whole commentary. I’ve done it more than once! One of the things I like about that commentary is that Mays, who himself was a Presbyterian Old Testament professor, really seems to pull together all the Psalms around some key themes. It helped me to read each Psalm, not as a whole in itself, but in the context of the entire collection of Psalms. And that only reinforced my conviction that the prayer, “into your hands I commend my life” is a motto for living, not a prayer for dying.

One of the things that Mays does is to inform the readers of his commentary how various Psalms have been used not only in the New Testament, but also throughout the history of the church. It should come as no surprise that, following Jesus’ example, a number of prominent Church leaders, including Martin Luther, used this prayer at the end of their lives. But as Mays says in his commentary, “in Hebrew and in the context of the psalm” the prayer is a confession of ultimate “dependence and trust” in God. He adds that this prayer, “Into your hands I commend my life” is essentially “a way of saying in the midst of affliction, ‘It is up to you, God, what becomes of me, and I am willing to have it so.’”[2] I find that to be a wonderful way to affirm my trust in God. I think Jesus paraphrased that prayer with his prayer in the Garden, “not my will but thine be done.”

If you think of it, what better place could we ever want to be than in God’s loving care? What more could we want than what God wants for us? That’s what I think about with this prayer, “It is up to you, God, what becomes of me, and I’m willing to have it so.” When you put it that way, the prayer, “into your hands I commend my life” really does become a prayer for living. In fact, it has been one of my primary prayers for living for over fifteen years. I haven’t prayed it every day. But I’ve prayed it most days. And many days I’ve prayed it more than once. I think one of the significant spiritual breakthroughs in my life’s journey was when I finally realized that I needed to consciously turn to God and entrust my life, all my hopes and dreams, into his care on a regular basis. This prayer has gotten me through a lot of up’s and down’s in life, and I think it will continue to see me through whatever may come in the future. Telling this story is my way of inviting you to join me in praying the prayer, “into your hands I commend my life,” following Jesus’ example, and the example of many faithful people who have gone before us. It’s a way of entrusting all of our lives into God’s hands. As we do so, may we discover that our lives are always in God’s care, and that there’s no better place we could be.

[1] © Alan Brehm 2026. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 3/29/2026 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] James Luther Mays, Psalms, 144.

Wednesday, November 12, 2025

Always Faithful

2 Timothy 2:1-16[1]

One of the challenges of living in these days of turmoil and strife is that it can leave you wondering on whom you can depend. The polarization we are all feeling divides churches, friends, families, and even marriages. It can make you uncertain about whom you can trust, or even with whom you can even discuss your concerns. That’s on top of the normal challenges we have with our relationships and our commitments. Even in the best of times, employees may find their years of loyalty to their companies rewarded with a pink slip. Friends have disagreements that turn into ruptures that turn into years of estrangement. Couples that pledge “til death do us part” find themselves going their separate ways. Relationships are always complicated, and because we’re human it’s always difficult to know on whom you can depend. It’s even more so in these trying times.

I would say that all of this is particularly challenging when you add betrayal to the mix. I don’t know about you, but I personally find betrayal something most difficult to forgive. I’ve learned over the years to forgive a lot. But forgiving a perceived betrayal of trust can be difficult. Most of us have some experience with this unfortunate part of human life. The truth of the matter is that people simply let us down sometimes. They very likely mean well, but when push comes to shove, they can disappoint us in the most disheartening of ways. Of course, since we’re “people” too, that applies to us as well. Recognizing that about myself helps me to forgive others. And as we all know, forgiving someone is something we do as much for ourselves as we do for one who we think has wronged us. But betrayal remains a challenge. It can take a long time, maybe years, maybe even decades, to forgive a perceived betrayal of trust. Truth be told, some of us never get there.

If you pay close attention to the story of the people who claim to trust and obey God, you find that we have betrayed God’s trust repeatedly. That’s the theme of the history books in the Bible: there is a cycle of betrayal, the subjugation of the people by a hostile enemy, their repentance and restoration, followed by further betrayal. It’s one of the major plots in the story of the people of Israel in that part of the Hebrew Bible. They continually betrayed God’s trust, and though they suffered consequences for it, he restored them every time. I think it’s important to recognize that even when they may have had to experience the consequences of their actions, in the end God always restored them. In fact, I would say that God was supporting them with his faithful love even and especially in the midst of those consequences. They may have abandoned God, but God never abandoned them. The truly remarkable feature of this story is the way that God remains true to himself by remaining faithful to love and care for his people, throughout all time and change, and regardless of our failures.

Our lesson from 2 Timothy for today addresses this issue in something of a “backhanded” way. There we find an interesting “litany.” It is one of the “sure” or “faithful” sayings that are found throughout 1 and 2 Timothy. The first part is fairly clear: “If we have died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him” (2 Tim. 2:11-12). This is a theme that St. Paul was fond of: our inclusion in the body of Christ means that we share in his death and resurrection. The purpose of this, as he says elsewhere, is “so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life” (Rom. 6:4). That part is fairly clear.

It’s the second part of the litany that’s troubling: “if we deny him, he will also deny us; if we are faithless, he remains faithful—for he cannot deny himself” (2 Tim. 2:13). On the surface, that doesn’t sound like good news. In fact, it sounds positively menacing. We’re used to hearing about the good news of salvation by God’s grace alone as a gift of his unconditional love. But this seems to introduce some conditions for actually achieving salvation. That impression is only reinforced by remembering that Jesus himself said, “Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels” (Mk. 8:38).

It sounds like we’re back to having to earn God’s love and trying to do enough good to deserve salvation! There is, of course, another way of looking at this strange litany. If we look at it from the perspective of the way God has dealt with people for generations, we could see it as a promise. From that point of view, it could mean that even when we are at times “faithless” and betray God’s trust, he remains faithful to us. Even when we go astray, even when that leads to consequences in the short run, through it all God always continues to love us and offer us grace and mercy. That would seem to make more sense in the light of the consistent witness of the Scriptures. The most fundamental affirmation of the Bible is that God remains faithful to us, no matter what. Always has been and always will be.

But there’s still that part about denying and being denied. Would Jesus really deny us if we happened to not perfectly live up to our commitment to follow him and to bear witness to him? Does God really reject us if we have times in our lives when we fall short and are “faithless”? That seems to be the implication here. And many in the history of the church have understood it that way: they think it means that if we fall short or lose heart, God will remain true to himself by rejecting us! In fact, throughout history, when Christians have faced persecution, church leaders have debated whether someone could be forgiven for denying their faith in Jesus in the face of imminent death. Some thought you could be forgiven once, but no more. Many have taken a harder stance and said even once is too much![2]

Again, I would argue that interpretation doesn’t do justice to the way God actually deals with his fallible and wayward people in Scripture. Whatever “denying” and being “denied” means in this context, it has to take into account the fact that Peter specifically “denied” Jesus three times, and yet he was not “denied” but restored! Perhaps that’s the point—even if we fall short the way Peter did, God’s faithfulness provides a way back for us, ultimately and finally, if not immediately as in Peter’s case. Whatever the “denying” that leads to being “denied” means, it has to be something more than just human weakness. It must be a final and definitive rejection of God’s grace and mercy and love, not simply a failure of nerve.[3] I think that applies to Jesus’ warning as well as our lesson from 2 Timothy.

The Bible bears witness time and again to the promise that, even if we are faithless, God remains faithful to his love, mercy, and grace toward us, which are unconditional, unqualified, unlimited, and irrevocable.[4] In light of our experience with betrayal, it may be hard for us to wrap our heads around this promise. How can God respond to our betraying him with such love, mercy, and grace? We don’t readily respond to betrayal by offering even forgiveness, let alone unconditional love. But as the Scriptures remind us, our way is not God’s way. God’s way is to send his son to die for those who are at odds with him, effecting reconciliation once and for all. God’s way is to remain faithful to us, even when we can at times fall short. God’s way is to restore us when we stumble and fall. When we wonder on whom we can depend in these trying times, I would say we can always depend on God, because throughout time and change, throughout all of history, God has demonstrated that he is always faithful to us!

[2] See, notably, John Calvin, Commentary on the Epistles to Timothy, Titus, and Philemon, 218-19: “he threatens that they who, through the dread of persecution, leave off the confession of his name, have no part or lot with Christ. … Hence it is evident, that all who deny Christ are disowned by him.”

[3] Cf. J. D. G. Dunn, “The First and Second Letters to Timothy and the Letter to Titus,” New Interpreter’s Bible XI:844.

[4] See Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 2.1:510, where he describes “God’s action in relation to the apostasy of the creature” as one of grace and reconciliation, and in this God is supremely true to himself and his purposes.

Wednesday, April 30, 2025

Before We Know To Ask

Before We Know to Ask

Psalm 31:1-5, 9-16[1]

Trust is a precious commodity these days. It seems the more divided we become as a people, the less we’re willing to risk trusting anyone. Many of us live by the motto, “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” We’re just wired that way. Self-reliance has been a virtue for generations, since long before Emerson wrote an essay about it.[2] We believe in pulling ourselves up by our own “bootstraps.” And that can make it difficult to trust—really trust—anyone. After all, making the choice to trust someone, anyone, means taking the risk that our trust will be broken. It’s simply one of the costs of living fully. It’s much easier to withdraw into our protective shell and isolate from anyone who might hurt us in any way. But if we want to experience the full spectrum of what it means to live this human life, we’ll have to learn to trust.

I think our general attitude about trusting anybody for anything rubs off on our ability to trust God. As we’ve seen in our journey through the Psalms during Lent, the psalm-singers framed trusting God as a matter of relying on God wholly and completely for every aspect of our lives. That cuts directly against the grain of our self-reliance. From my perspective, trusting God means acknowledging that there’s nothing we can do to come up with a better version of our past. It means accepting our lives just as they are in the present moment. And it means entrusting our future entirely into God’s hands. It’s hard to do that when we’re busy trying to pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps. Even and especially when we can’t even find any straps to pull ourselves up by, or when we’ve lost the strength to even take hold of the straps, let alone pull them up.

I believe our Psalm for today addresses this question of trusting God with every aspect of life. It may be difficult to hear that, however. Because Luke’s Gospel has Jesus cry out, “Into your hands I commend my spirit” as his dying breath (Lk 23:46), we tend to hear Psalm 31 as a “prayer for the dying.” We think that the Psalm is about giving up our “spirit” into God’s hands at death. But the prayer in Psalm 31 is better translated, “Into your hands I commit my very life,” as in the New International Reader’s Version we used in worship today. I’ve mentioned before that the Hebrew word translated “spirit” in the Psalm means more than we may think. It refers to one’s whole existence, heart and mind, body and soul. It’s like the way we use the word “self.” Entrusting one’s very “self” to God in this way is not a prayer for dying, but rather a prayer for living.

In Psalm 31, the psalm-singer recalls all the hardships of life, including the “frenemies” who sought to undo him, along with all the anxiety and sorrow that caused.[3] As a result of the anguish he had borne, the psalm-singer could say, “I am as forgotten as a dead man” (cf. Ps. 31:12, TEV). He likens himself to so much “broken pottery.” And yet, in spite of all the pain he’s had to endure, at the end of the day he summed up his trust in God by saying, “my times are in your hand” (Ps. 31:15). Again, this points us in the direction that the Psalm is a “life-prayer.” In this song, the psalm-singer expresses his faith in terms of relying on God wholly and completely for all of life.

Another reason for seeing Psalm 31 as a “life-prayer” is because the psalm-singer expresses his confidence in the “faithful God.” That’s the second part of the prayer: “Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God” (Ps. 31:5, NRSV). In Hebrew the idea of God as the “faithful God” is literally worded, “the God of truth” (el-emeth). One could also translate this as “the God of trustworthiness.” This phrase points us to the one whose very character is defined by dependability. The psalm-singer entrusts his entire life to “the God who can be relied on … because [God] is true to himself.”[4] Being dependable, being reliable, being trustworthy in relationship to us all is what it means for God to be true to himself. The psalm-singer shows his confidence in the God who is always faithful by essentially praying, “it is up to you, God, what becomes of me, and I am willing to have it so.”[5]

As we’re learning about “Faith in the Psalms” during Lent this year, I think that may be the foundation for everything else. To be sure, like the rest of the Bible, faith has different facets in the Psalms. Sometimes we learn faith by hearing about all the ways God was faithful to people in the past. Sometimes we learn faith from their affirmations about God, like “God’s love never fails.” And sometimes we learn faith by following the example of those who entrusted their lives wholly and completely to God. When we take that step of faith, we’re not just engaged in so much wishful thinking. In the Psalms, faith is based on the firm foundation that God’s love for us never fails. And through the stories of those who entrusted their lives to him, God has demonstrated time and again that he is the God we can rely on. More than that, we have our own experiences of God being there for us, through good times and bad times. Again and again, God has been true to himself by being true to us. God does this simply because that’s who God is. God is the “faithful God” in whose hands we can “entrust” our “times,” all our times, past, present, and future.

If you’ve been in worship here for a while, and if you’ve been paying attention, it’s likely you recognized the title of my sermon for today, “Before We Know to Ask.” It’s a phrase I’ve used every week in my pastoral prayer since before I came here over ten years ago. I don’t use that phrase because it’s something I just memorized or it’s an “easy” way to close my prayer. I composed that phrase years ago as a way of concluding my prayer with the kind of trust this Psalm expresses. It’s a way of formulating in words that I hope we can all relate to the faith that the psalm-singers encourage us to embrace. It’s the faith that God always shows us grace, mercy, and love in little ways every day. Theologians call it God’s “prevenient grace.” I know that’s not likely a phrase you’re familiar with. One of the things I love about the Reformed Christian tradition to which we in the Presbyterian Church belong is that we believe God’s grace is always “prevenient.” That means it always precedes anything we might do. A theology of grace teaches us that God is constantly at work in all our lives, even and especially when we’re not aware of it. God is “for us” in many more ways that we can know simply because that’s what it means for God to be true to himself. And God’s unfailing love always precedes our asking or even knowing what to ask for!

Our faith is not about “pulling ourselves up by our own bootstraps”! Our faith teaches us to recognize that we don’t have any bootstraps strong enough to actually pull ourselves up at all. Every grace, every mercy, all the goodness in our lives comes as a gift from God’s love. Our faith is not about relying on ourselves for every little thing. It’s about acknowledging that there’s nothing we can do to come up with a better version of our past. It’s about accepting our lives just as they are in the present moment. And it’s about entrusting our future entirely into God’s hands. We do that when we follow the psalm-singer’s example and entrust our “times,” all the times of our lives, into God’s hands. We do that when we live out the faith that the God whose essential character is reliable, trustworthy, and faithful will bring grace, mercy and love into our lives before we even know to ask.

[2] Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Self-Reliance,” Essays: First Series, 1841; accessed at https://archive.vcu.edu/english/engweb/transcendentalism/authors/emerson/essays/selfreliance.html

[3] Most modern versions follow the (Greek) Septuagint version which reads “misery” in v. 10 rather than “iniquity” in the Hebrew text (and KJV, ASV, NASB, ESV, CEV, NET, NLT [2015; NLT 1996 has “misery”]; contrast GNV, “pain”). Cf. H.-J. Kraus, Psalms 1-59, 360; Peter C. Craigie, Psalms 1-50, 258.

[4] James L. Mays, Psalms, 143; cf. also Kraus, Psalms 1-59, 363, who renders it “the faithful, dependable God.” He also adds (p. 365), “The truth of God is the confirmation of [God’s] grace and faithfulness.” See further, Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 2.1:459-60, where he relates this to the doctrine of God’s “simplicity,” or the idea that God is entirely true to himself when God relates to us with love, mercy, grace, and patience. God does so because God has chosen to do so, and because God always faithful to God’s self. It is a matter of “the unity of grace and holiness, mercy and righteousness, patience and wisdom, in the total work of His love” (ibid, 460).

[5] This is Mays’ interpretation of “into your hands I commit my spirit.” Cf. Mays, Psalms, 144.

Tuesday, March 18, 2025

God's Goodness in This Life

God’s Goodness in This Life

Psalm 27[1]

You’ve heard me preach enough that you know I try to focus on how our faith shapes how we live here and now. I do that on purpose, because I believe Jesus focused on that. On the other hand, I’m well aware that for centuries our faith has directed our attention away from “this life” to the promise of eternal life to come. This shift took place for a lot of reasons. Essentially about 1800 years ago the church shifted its focus from what the kingdom of God challenges us to do with our lives here and now to the promise of going to heaven when we die. Since that time, our faith has been oriented toward what happens “in the sweet by and by” rather than “I’m gonna live so God can use me”!

The psalm singers had an interesting way of doing something similar. They tended to view “danger” as something that happens to us “out here” in real life, while safety is to be found “in there” in God’s presence. And God’s presence was identified with the Temple in Jerusalem. It was there, in “the Lord’s house” that the psalm singers sought refuge. As our Psalm for today puts it, “he will shelter me in his own dwelling during troubling times” (Ps 27:5, CEB). In a sense, “locating” God’s deliverance in a particular place, like the temple in Jerusalem, was similar to thinking of salvation in terms of what happens at a particular time, after we die. There’s nothing wrong with either one of those notions, as far as they go. But to limit God’s deliverance to a particular place or time runs counter to the fundamental assurance that God is sovereign and reigns over all of life, everywhere, all the time.

One of the challenges we face when dealing with the faith of the Psalms, as we’re doing this year during the season of Lent, is that they were written before Easter. All that we’ve discussed recently about how Jesus’ death and resurrection has changed everything for everyone everywhere was only something the psalm singers might have a vague hope for. While it’s still also our “hope” in that we have only tasted the salvation God has in store for us, we do have good grounds for that hope. Jesus’ death and resurrection happened. That’s not just a matter of “wishful thinking.” We have ample testimony to Jesus’ death and resurrection, not only in the writings of the Apostles, but also in the faith of believers throughout the ages, and in our own encounters with God in our lives.

Even without knowing the hope we have in Jesus’ resurrection, the psalm singers held a hope that was just as real and just as powerful for them. Their hope was in the God who created all the heavens and the earth (Ps 121:2; 146:6). Their hope was in the God who, although he is “Lord” over even death, does not promote death, but rather as the Creator of all things “affirms life and only life.”[2] Their hope was rooted in the belief that God brought order from chaos and life from nothing. More than that, their hope was in the God who had delivered their ancestors time and time again (Ps 22:4; 78:3). Particularly, despite the fact that they continually turned away from him, God was the one who “led his people out of Egypt and guided them in the desert like a flock of sheep” (Ps 78:52, CEV). They affirmed God’s power over even the dangers that his people still faced based on the many times he had delivered them from dangers of all kinds.

The psalm singers, like the prophets, affirmed their faith in God in the face of all that would threaten them. Psalm 107 particularly recounts the many ways God delivered His people when all hope seemed lost. Psalm 107 repeats the refrain “so they cried out to the LORD in their distress, and God delivered them from their desperate circumstances” four times (Ps 107:6, 13, 19, 28, CEB). The people had centuries of testimonies behind them already at the time the Psalms were collected and made into the “prayer book” of the faithful. Their hope in God as their refuge, as their deliverer, as their safe shelter, was based on their own experience, as well as the experiences of the people as a whole.

That brings us back to our Psalm for today. The psalm singer affirms that “The LORD is my light and my salvation” and “the LORD is a fortress protecting my life” (Ps 27:1, CEB). As I’ve observed before, this affirmation of trust in God as deliverer was not made in a time when all was right with the world. Rather, this psalm singer was engaged in a desperate struggle for his very life.[3] He speaks about brutal and vicious “evildoers” who were trying to “devour” him. He describes being surrounded by a vast army determined to destroy him (Ps 27:2-3). The situation is so dire that he truly feels afraid that God might “hide his face” from him, which would mean abandoning him to his enemies.

It’s in that setting of real danger and real fear that he can affirm his faith that God will bring good, not harm, into his life: “I have sure faith that I will experience the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living” (Ps 27:13, CEB)! That’s quite an astounding statement! He’s not just saying that whatever happens in this life, he trusts God to fulfill his promises ultimately. He’s saying that he’s firmly convinced that he will see God’s goodness in this life. And the way this affirmation is worded in the Hebrew, we might say that this psalm singer had “established” or “solidified” his life by trusting in God.[4] In a very real sense, the God who Created all the heavens and the earth, the God who had been Israel’s Deliverer throughout the centuries, had become the “solid rock” on which he staked everything! In the midst of very real danger and equally real fear, the psalm singer puts his trust wholly and completely in God.[5] That’s the pattern of faith throughout the Psalms.[6] At the end of the day, that kind of faith allows him to say that since God is on his side, there’s no one and nothing in life that truly deserves his fear!

Bringing this back to our lives, the question this Psalm poses for us is whether we can put our trust in God as wholly and completely as the psalm singer did.[7] To be sure, it’s not an easy thing to do. And it’s not something that you start your faith journey being able to do. It takes time and experience to build up that kind of faith. And we learn it precisely by doing what the psalm singer calls us all to do: “Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” (Ps 27:14). As we “wait” in faith and hope, in essence “relying” on God to bring good into our lives here and now, we’re staking everything on God, just as many others have done before us.

I think the essential factor in being able to do this in the face of real dangers and real fears is that we have to let go of our expectations about what God’s “goodness in this life” will look like. We all tend to have some expectations about that: “If God’s going to be ‘good’ to me, he’s going to give me what I want, or he’s going to make this problem go away.” Faith in God does not guarantee specific outcomes in life’s hardships. Sometimes life and faith are mysteries we simply can’t explain. Sometimes, we have to go out on a limb, and say with St. Paul, “If God is for us, who can ever be against us?” Sometimes we have to go out on that limb a little further and say with Paul, “nothing can ever separate us from God’s love” (Rom 8:33, 38, NLT). Nothing that life throws our way, nothing that anyone brings down on us, can ever separate us from God’s love! Even when our hardships don’t come to an end in the way we want them to, when we stake everything on God, come what may, we find God’s goodness in surprising places, sustaining us through it all, despite it all.[8] In a sense, this kind of faith, this level of trust, is about developing the capacity to see the good that God is always bringing into our lives, no matter what we may have to go through.

[2] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 2.3:616.

[3] H.-J. Krauss, Psalms 1-59, 337: “Even though still far from the sanctuary, the psalmsinger puts his confidence in Yahweh. He longs for the redeeming bestowal of salvation in the temple area and for being sheltered in the holy place (v. 4*). But the God of salvation (אלהי ישׁעי, v. 9b) is also present in the midst of the battle, in the midst of the external danger of his servant (vv. 1–3).”

[4] Krauss, Psalms 1-59, 336; cf. also H.-J. Krauss, Theology of the Psalms, 161: “האמין (“believe”) contains the root אמן (’aman), which means ‘to be firm,’ so that the hiphil of the verb could be translated as ‘make oneself firm,’ ‘have unshakable certainty’ (cf. Ps. 27:13).”

[5] Cf. James L. Mays, Psalms, 132: “Trust is active and real precisely when one is aware of one’s vulnerability, of one’s ultimate helplessness before the threats of life, ‘in the day of trouble,’ as the psalmist puts it.”

[6] Indeed, Karl Barth would say that is the faith of the Hebrew Bible. Cf. Barth, Church Dogmatics 3.3:618, “That God exists, and is true to Himself, is Israel’s help and consolation in death, its deliverance from death, and its hope.” While Barth speaks primarily of the “danger” posed by death, I think his observations relate to faith in God in general. He says further (p. 620), “All man’s [sic] deliverance, redemption, preservation, and salvation in and out of death is enclosed in God, in His existence in faithfulness. That it is all enclosed in Him and to be expected from Him, is the hope of the Old Testament in relation to death.”

[7] In fact, that is the testimony of the Psalms as a whole. As J. Clinton McCann, Jr., “The Book of Psalms,” New Interpreters Bible 4:667 puts it, in the Psalms to be “blessed” or “happy” “is to entrust one’s whole self, existence, and future to God.”

[8] Cf. Shirley C. Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, rev. ed., 189: “Remembering what God has done in the past and promises to do in the future,” which is the biblical foundation for trusting in God’s ongoing care, “recognizes signs here and now of God’s presence and work in our lives and the world around us.” (emphasis original)

Tuesday, July 02, 2024

The Waiting Place

Lamentations 3:19-32[1]

Most of us are familiar with the classic by Dr. Seuss, “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!” It’s a wonderfully encouraging look at life’s journey. The idea is that, especially when you’re starting out, you really can’t even begin to imagine the places your journey will take you. And the theme is that “Wherever you fly, you'll be best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.” But then, of course, he adds, “Except when you don't. Because, sometimes, you won't.” And one of those times he mentions is when you find yourself in what he calls “The Waiting Place.” The “Waiting Place” is for people “Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow or waiting around for a Yes or No or waiting for their hair to grow.” Even Dr. Suess calls the “Waiting Place” a “most useless place.”[2]

We’re not a people who like to wait. For anything. It’s irritating at best, because time spent waiting seems like wasted time to us. At worst it can be infuriating, because nothing brings out the worst in us quicker than having our plans or expectations thwarted. And waiting is one of those things that can definitely thwart our plans! Our instant economy has spoiled us. We’re used to getting whatever we want right when we want it. If we do have to wait, we tend to take out a smartphone or another device and dive into the screen. The idea of just waiting quietly and patiently seems to be a foreign concept to us.

But waiting is part of life. And through the ages, those who have taught us the most about what it means to “walk humbly with our God” have made it clear that learning how to “wait for the Lord” plays a central role in spiritual growth, if you’re interested in that kind of thing.[3] In the Bible, “waiting” is an expression of faith. We “wait for the Lord” in faith because we recognize that much of our lives is out of our control. But more than that, we “wait for the Lord” because that’s how we grow stronger in our faith. It’s a bit like the concept of leaving a portion of the ground fallow for a season as a means of restoring and enriching the soil. Or the fact that in Winter, trees that appear to have gone “dormant” are doing some of their most important growing. They’re sending down roots to seek out nutrients, growing deeper and stronger underground while it may seem to us like not much is happening. Waiting for the Lord is how we send down deeper roots to grow stronger in faith.

The prophet Jeremiah knew about the value of waiting for the Lord, as we saw in our lesson from Lamentations for today. Much of Lamentations is not particularly uplifting. It came from a bitter time in the history of the people of Israel. The Babylonians had invaded the land, and the city of Jerusalem was under siege. The famine that resulted led to shocking atrocities. When he looked around, what he saw was his nation in ruins, his beloved city of Jerusalem besieged, and his people seemingly abandoned by God. Much of the earlier part of Lamentations contains the outpouring of his grief. At the end of it all, he could say, “Everything I had hoped for from the Lord is lost!” (Lam 3:18, NLT). Imagine the prophet Jeremiah saying that! It sounds like he had given up not only his hope, but also his faith!

But the prophet turned a corner precisely when all seemed lost. Although he could say that he would never forget that “awful time,” he remembers the most fundamental affirmation about God in the Bible, the bedrock of faith: “The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning” (Lam 3:22-23, NLT). It’s phrased in different ways in different verses, but this is the essential expression of faith in the Bible: God’s love never ends, and we can always count on him to be faithful. So, despite all the bitterness and the grief Jeremiah had been through, he could hold onto his faith: “I still dare to hope” (Lam 3:21, NLT).

We might wonder what made it possible for him to have such a dramatic change of heart—from “everything is lost” to “I still dare to hope.” If we listen carefully, he tells us. It wasn’t some spectacular vision from God, nor was it the presence of an angel that gave him new hope. The situation hadn’t changed. What changed was his attitude. And he made that change by waiting for the Lord. I think he show this was what made the difference when he affirms that “it is good to wait quietly for salvation from the Lord” (Lam 3:26, NLT). To be sure, waiting for the Lord is no easier than any other waiting. In fact, it may be harder! We may often suffer from doubt or anxiety. But what makes it “good” to “wait quietly” for the Lord is that’s how we learn that “no one is abandoned by the Lord forever” (Lam 3:31, NLT). I think in light of what the New Testament teaches, I would say that “no one is abandoned by the Lord ever”!

We live in a world of “perpetual motion,” 24/7/365, year after year! “Waiting” is what we do when we’re helpless to change the situation. We “wait” only when it’s the only option. “Waiting” calls to mind boredom, or anxiety, or restlessness. But in the Bible, “waiting” for the Lord refers to a posture of trust. To “wait” for the Lord in the Bible refers to trusting God’s unfailing and faithful love when everything in life seems to have given way. This may remind you of one of my favorite hymns: “Great is Thy Faithfulness.” I suspect that some of you may share that opinion. You may know that it’s based on this passage. It might seem surprising that such a wonderful encouraging hymn could come from such a bleak and dismal situation. But if you look at it from the biblical perspective, it’s not surprising at all. With all due respect to Dr. Seuss, the “Waiting Place” is not a “most useless place” after all. In fact, it may be one of the most useful places for growing our faith. That’s because the “Waiting Place” is where we learn again that God is faithful always! Always has been, always will be. It’s where we learn again that God is always for us, never against us. It’s where we learn again that God loves us with a love that never fails, no matter what.[4]

[2] Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You’ll Go! 1990.

[3] Cf. Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out, 91: “Waiting … is the foundation of the spiritual life” (quoted from Simone Weil, First and Last Notebook).

[4] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics II.1, 385: “[God] is wholly Himself and true to Himself in the fact that he is true to us.”

Tuesday, April 16, 2024

We Shall Be Like Him

1 John 3:1-2[1]

I’ve mentioned before that one of the symptoms of the changes that are reshaping our society is that it’s hard to know whom you can trust. While I genuinely and wholeheartedly believe that there is plenty of goodness and beauty in our world if we have the eyes to see it, I also recognize that there is a lot of pain and fear as well. As much as it is true that we all have so much to be grateful for in this life, we also all have our share in the pain and brokenness of our world. Despite all appearances, especially in the beautiful family pictures on social media that make us think that everyone else has the perfect life, the reality is that life takes unexpected and unwelcome turns for us all. And when that happens, most of us find ourselves asking the question of God, “Why did this have to happen to me?”

Part of the problem is that we may look for our sense of safety from people who aren’t really able to provide it. Some of us may have felt betrayed by the person we love most in the world, whether a parent or child, a spouse or a friend. That kind of betrayal can leave us wondering if we can trust anyone or anything, even God! Some of us may have committed our lives to a career, even given our best years to it, only to find that the choices of others or circumstances beyond our control leave us empty-handed. Some of us have had our health go from something we took for granted to something that feels like it’s hanging by a thread. In these and many other ways, our experiences in life can leave us wondering if we can trust anyone or anything. Even God.

We come to faith drawn by the wonderful good news that God loves us and that Jesus lived and died and rose again to show us just how much that’s true. And in our best moments we know the peace and joy that promise holds for us, and we’re deeply grateful. But the way our lives may unfold has a way of taking a jolting turn at what can seem like the very worst possible time. Sometimes our faith is strong enough to carry us through. Sometimes, life’s sudden twists take all the supports out from under us. The shock of that jolt can leave us wondering where God is, or whether God loves us, or whether there even is a God at all. It shakes our faith to the core, and we may wonder if we can ever believe again.

I think our lesson from 1 John for today addresses this issue. The Elder John uses the resurrection of Jesus as a basis for reminding us that, no matter what may happen to us, God is always faithful. In a very real sense, that was also one of the main lessons of Jesus’ resurrection. Despite all appearances that his death somehow invalidated all that he said and did—as the crowds pointed out by shouting, “he saved others, let him save himself!”—the cross was not the end of Jesus’ faith in God and his life of faithful obedience to God. Death was not the final word for Jesus’ life and ministry. The final word was and is resurrection to new life. Part of the reason for that was to vindicate all that Jesus had said and done in his ministry. But part of the reason for the resurrection was to demonstrate definitively that God is always faithful. Always.

And so it is that our Scripture reading reminds us that our lives are all grounded firmly in the love of God, which has made us “children of God.” This is one of the themes of 1 John. God has not only demonstrated his love for us by what Jesus did, he also assures us of his love for us by the constant presence of his Spirit. In the face of any doubts we may harbor about whether or not we are truly beloved children of God, the Scripture emphasizes that we’re not just “called” God’s children, but that’s what we truly are. The basis for this confidence is the story of God’s love for the people of Israel in the Hebrew Bible. We may be used to thinking of it as a story of an angry God punishing a wayward people. But I think we would do better to see it as the story of a loving father who never gives up on his stubbornly defiant children. Through it all, God is always faithful to them. Always!

Our scripture lesson takes it a step further, however. As the author puts it, “we are already God’s children, but he has not yet shown us what we will be like when Christ appears. But we do know that we will be like him, for we will see him as he really is” (1 John 3:2, NLT) While there’s a lot going on in that statement, I would say that the point of it is to assure us that just as God demonstrated his faithfulness to Jesus by raising him from the dead, so the promise that we will share the resurrection life of Jesus is the promise that God will be faithful to us as well. Just as death was not God’s last word for Jesus, so it is for us as well. Neither will any of the pain or fear or disappointment or despair or emptiness we may have to deal with in our lives.

God’s last word for us is life. And God’s final act of faithfulness will be to bring us face-to-face with Jesus so that we see him “as he really is.” What’s more, the promise is that when we stand before the risen Lord Jesus, “we will be like him, for we will see him as he really is” (1 John 3:2, NLT)! I find it interesting that the Elder John says we don’t know exactly what that will look like. But the idea is that Jesus’ resurrection gives us at least a clue. In fact, another main theme of Easter is that very real nature of Jesus’ resurrection gives us something of an indication about what to expect about our future with God. As the Scripture says, we will be like Jesus. The promise of the resurrection of Jesus Christ is that we too will be resurrected to a new life, and when that happens, we will all be changed so that we are “like him.” And the point of it all is that God is always faithful. And he will continue to show us his faithfulness all the way to our eternal life in his loving presence.

Sometimes the way our lives unfold can make us question whether we can trust even God. The path gets dark and difficult, and we may wonder whether it will always be that way. But the promise of the resurrection is that God’s last word is never death, but life.[2] I like the way Henri Nouwen frames it: “Through the resurrection, God has said to Jesus, ‘You are indeed my beloved Son, and my love is everlasting,’ and to us God has said, ‘You are indeed my beloved children, and my love is everlasting.’”[3] That first Easter is a promise that we can trust God to be faithful to love us all the way through everything in this life until we are standing face-to-face with Jesus, when we shall be like him.

[2] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 2.2:29: “God Himself in His freedom has decided that [man] shall stand, that he shall be saved and not lost, that he shall live and not die.”

[3] Henri J. M. Nouwen, God’s Greatest Gift: A Meditation on Dying and Caring, 100-101. He adds that “The resurrection is God’s way of revealing to us that nothing that belongs to God … will [ever] get lost … . The resurrection doesn’t answer any of our curious questions about life after death, … . But it does reveal to us that, indeed love is stronger than death.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer is known for saying something similar: the promise of final resurrection is the promise that “nothing is lost, that everything is taken up in Christ” and restored “as God originally intended for it to be.” Cf. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison, 170

Tuesday, February 06, 2024

Have You Not Heard?

Isaiah 40:18-31; Mark 1:29-39[1]

Everybody wrestles with faith at some time or other. That’s because, as much as we like to present our lives as “picture perfect,” nobody actually has an “ideal” life. Pretty much everyone is dealing with some kind of problem. It just seems to be the nature of life. Just as soon as you get one thing nailed down, two more come loose. And it’s also the nature of the Christian life. As one of my college professors put it, everyone you meet is either heading into a time when their faith will be tested, or is in the midst of a time of testing, or is coming out of a time of testing. When we go through hard times, it’s easy for us to wonder what went wrong. We think a life that’s free of troubles should be “normal” for a Christian. But the fact of the matter is that we follow a Savior and Lord who suffered, and who called us to follow him in that path. So we should expect the troubles in our life as “normal.”

Part of the problem is that when hard times come, we tend to think that God is punishing us. It’s actually a line of thinking that starts with the Bible. Especially the book of Deuteronomy. The idea there is that when we do what we’re supposed to do, God blesses us. When we do what we’re not supposed to do, God punishes us. But the problem with that line of thinking is that there are a lot of people out there whose lives seem to be “blessed” who aren’t making any effort to do what’s right. And there are also a lot of people out there who are making every effort to do what’s right whose lives nevertheless are filled with hardship. In the language of the Psalms, the fact that the “wicked” so often “prosper” while the “righteous” suffer makes it plain that the line of thinking that equates hardships with punishment just doesn’t work.

Sometimes we may take this all the way to questioning whether God really is as good and loving as we’ve been taught to believe. In fact, this is a question that people have been asking for centuries, going back to ancient times. One of the Psalmists asks God if he has forgotten to be loving (Ps. 77:8-9), essentially asking if God has forgotten who he is! Another Psalmist asks God if he has fallen asleep instead of coming to help his people in their time of need (Ps. 44:23), again asking if God has somehow gotten too tired to make good on his promises. Those are some pretty bold questions. Not everyone goes through tragedies painful enough to bring us to question God to that extent. But there are many of us who have and still do, and I think it’s important for us to recognize that if psalm-singers and prophets could ask these questions in the Bible, it’s okay for us to have and to give voice to our questions. If Jesus could cry out to God “why have you forsaken me” from the cross, we can ask our questions too. God’s big enough to handle it, and he understands.

From the point of view of some Philosophers and Theologians, the presence of so much unjust suffering, or “evil,” in the world means that God cannot be both loving and all-powerful at the same time. If God is loving, he must not be all-powerful, because a loving God “would” prevent the tragedies that come upon the most innocent and vulnerable people. From this point of view, God is like a beloved grandparent who is simply powerless to protect us.[2] On the other hand, if God is all-powerful, he must not be loving, because being all-powerful means God can stop the terrible things that happen in life but chooses not to. From this point of view, God isn’t even a good father, because no parent would neglect a child in need![3]

As much as I understand why some people ask these questions (and why I’ve asked them myself!), the problem with posing the alternatives so starkly is that it presupposes that God’s ways are our ways. But the Bible bears witness again and again that God’s ways are as much higher than our ways as the heavens are higher than the earth (Isa 55:9). We know a lot more about how “high” the heavens are in our day than they did then. Generally speaking, science tells us that the universe is infinite! And so our lesson from Psalm 147 today says, “there is no limit to [God’s] understanding” (Ps 147:5, NIrV). That’s one way of dealing with the painful experiences of our lives: we may not understand what’s happening, but none of it escapes God’s notice, nor his wisdom, power, and love!

That’s the point of our lesson from Isaiah for today. The people of Israel languished far from home for a lifetime. In that land so far from everything they had known, they wondered whether God even noticed that they were suffering, or whether God even cared. And the prophet speaking in the name of the Lord reminds them who God is: “The LORD is the everlasting God; he created all the world. He never grows tired or weary” (Isa 40:28, GNT). God always knows what we’re going through in this life, and God always cares. That doesn’t mean things will always turn out the way we want or hope. But what it means is that “those who trust in the LORD for help will find their strength renewed. They will rise on wings like eagles; they will run and not get weary; they will walk and not grow weak” (Isa 40:31, GNT).

It’s something our lesson from the Gospel of Mark for today demonstrates. Although Jesus knew his task was not primarily to work miracles, but to proclaim the good news that he had come to bring the kingdom of God, wherever he was faced with suffering he met human pain with compassion. He was never too preoccupied with his sense of calling to comfort those who were suffering. And when he followed that calling all the way to the point of giving up his life on the cross, he showed us all once and for all that God shares our burdens. Although Jesus cried out in agony, and it seemed as if the only reply God made was silence, what our faith teaches us is that in Jesus God was right there, taking all of our suffering upon himself.[4] Just as Jesus didn’t abandon those who came to him in need, so also God didn’t abandon Jesus on the cross. And God will never abandon anyone in this world, especially in the midst of their suffering.

When I’m going through hard times, and I’m having a hard time believing that God notices or cares about what I’m going through, I know that it’s usually because I’m stuck in fear or pain or sadness. I think when we get stuck in those feelings, we lose our sense of perspective on our lives. We may even lose our faith for a time. That’s precisely when we need to remember the lessons those who wrestled with these questions in the Bible learned. While my understanding is most definitely limited, there is no limit to God’s understanding. We may not understand what’s going on, but none of what’s happening in our lives escapes God’s notice, nor his wisdom, power, and love. Just as Jesus never abandoned those who came to him in need, and just as God didn’t abandon Jesus on the cross, so God never abandons us, especially in hard times. God is always there for us; when we think God is silent, perhaps it’s because God is weeping right along with us. As our affirmation of faith reminds us today, God watches over us each day of our lives. It’s what we’ve heard from the very beginning. God always knows what we’re going through in this life, and God always cares.

[2] This was the view of Rabbi Harold Kushner in When Bad Things Happen to Good People. His views were likely influenced by the death of his son from cancer at an early age.

[3] This is the view of Sam Harris: “God visits suffering on innocent people on a scope and scale that would embarrass the most ambitious psychopath” (post on Twitter dated Aug. 5, 2015).

[4] Cf. Helmut Thielicke, The Silence of God, 14: “Even when He was silent, God suffered with us.” Cf. also ibid., 13: When we don’t understand what’s happening, perhaps God “is fitting stone to stone in His plan for the world and our lives, even though we can see only a confused and meaningless jumble of stones.”

The Waking Dreamer