God is There

God is There

Psalm 22[1]

As we conclude the season of Lent with the remembrance of Jesus’ suffering and death, we may recall that Jesus quoted the first line of Psalm 22 in his agony on the cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Ps. 22:1). The very idea is unsettling: that the God who promises never to forsake us would in fact do so. And the prospect that he abandoned his own Son at the moment when he fulfilled God’s saving purpose most completely can be shocking. I think Jesus knew he had to die. Yet he cried out “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me.” I believe Jesus trusted that God would raise him from the dead. Yet he cried out “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me.” What troubles me is the question where God was while all this was happening. 

I know the standard response: “he had to turn away because Jesus took all the sin of the world on himself and God cannot look upon sin.” That just doesn’t cut it for me. I want to know where God was during the awful silence that followed Jesus’ prayer. It is a prayer after all, addressed to God. Jesus wasn’t just acting out some sort of elaborate play. This was the real thing. And when the agony of the cross overwhelmed him, Jesus cried out one of the most heartbreaking prayers of the Bible. And God’s response was … silence. Did God really forsake Jesus on the cross?

Maybe we’re looking at this in the wrong way.  We tend to equate silence with abandonment. But sometimes we’re silent with those who are suffering because we are suffering with them. I believe that’s what was going on at the cross. Rather than abandoning his Son, God was right there with Jesus, experiencing all the anguish his heartbreaking prayer expresses.^[2] God was silent because God was suffering with Jesus. While the idea of God “suffering” might seem strange to us, at the cross God made it clear once and for all that his suffering has become our redemption, and his apparent weakness is in fact a demonstration of his powerful love.

Perhaps the biggest surprise in all of this that the cry “My God, My God, why?” can actually be an expression of faith. What we have to notice is that the Psalm takes an abrupt turn. The psalmist cried out to the Lord, and the Lord heard his cries and delivered him from whatever was causing his trouble. And he confirms that God is the one who is on the side of those who suffer: “[God] did not despise or abhor the affliction of the afflicted; he did not hide his face from me, but heard when I cried to him” (Ps. 22:24). The point of this is that even in the midst of suffering, God is there, paying close attention to those who are suffering, hearing their every cry for help.

Unfortunately, the idea that those who suffer must be undergoing punishment for some kind of wrongdoing is something that has become ingrained for many of us. I think this pattern of thinking can be most harmful when we encounter suffering ourselves. When hardship strikes us we tend to think, “What did I do to deserve this?” And yet if we can take the Psalmist’s perspective, perhaps instead we can trust in God’s unfailing love despite any hardships we encounter. We can take this step of faith because at the cross God demonstrated once and for all that he is the one who is there with all the afflicted in their suffering.

When we wonder where God was while Jesus was suffering on cross, the answer is that God was right there suffering with him. And that answer also applies to each and every one of us when we may wonder where God is in our moments of anguish.^[3] God is just as present with us as he was with Jesus. God will not abandon us any more than he abandoned Jesus. If God seems silent, it is not because he is ignoring us, it is because he is suffering with us. That’s where God always is—right beside us, walking with us every step of the way, supporting us in ways that are sometimes unseen and unfelt. But they are real nevertheless. Wherever you find any suffering or heartbreak or anguish in this world, God is there, pouring out his love to bring healing and new life.

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[1] © Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 4/9/2020 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann The Way of Jesus Christ, 173: far from abandoning his Son, “in the surrender of the Son the Father surrenders himself too.”

[3] Cf. Martin Marty, A Cry of Absence: Reflections for the Winter of the Heart, 174 “God participates in the life of the people [who suffer] and suffers at their side.”

In God's Hands, Part 1

In God’s Hands, Part 1

Psalm 31:1-16[1]

I would say that we who live in this society are accustomed to the idea that our lives are in our own hands. Many of us have been raised on the creed of individualism: hard work and independence. Others have embraced a more collaborative approach to life. They work in teams and believe that they accomplish more together than they can separately. Whether we are “rugged individualists” or “team players,” we all still seem to assume that “you only live once,” and what we get out of life is what we put into it. We assume that our lives are in our own hands.

Our Scripture lesson from the Psalms presents us with a different approach to life, one based on trusting God with all of life. The whole idea of trusting in God implies, as the Psalmist expresses, that the course of our lives is out of our hands. Our lives are in God’s hands (Ps. 31:15).^[2] Recognizing this truth is at the heart of what it means to trust in God. More than that, it means entrusting all that we are, all that we have, all that we are concerned about, all those we love, into God’s care. And the Scriptures teach us that God’s care is infinite and unfailing. 

I think this may explain why Jesus could look an excruciating death squarely in the face and pray “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit” (Lk 23:46, quoting Psalm 31:5). In spite of the circumstances, we shouldn’t be surprised that Jesus prayed that prayer at the end of his life. Trusting God was the main focus of his whole life. When we think about the ultimate sacrifice Jesus made for us on that Friday so many years ago, I think we have to recognize that what enabled him to go through with it was his trust that the God into whose hands he had entrusted his whole life would be with him in his darkest hour.

  A faith like that seems to me to be the highest expression of trust. It’s not easy to look at our lives, at all that we are, all that we have, all those we love, and essentially let go of it all by placing it into God’s hands. But that was the kind of faith that Jesus modeled for us throughout his life. It was that kind of faith that enabled him to live out the prayer “Into your hands I commit my very life” (Ps. 31:5, NIrV).  And it was that kind of faith that enabled him to face the prospect of making the final sacrifice with the prayer, “not my will, but thine be done.”  As we seek to deepen our trust in God, Jesus’ commitment stands for us as the defining example for our own faith. It challenges us all to give up thinking that our lives are in our own hands, and instead to entrust our lives, our whole lives, into God’s hands.

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[1] ©Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 4/5/2020 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] cf. James L. Mays, Psalms, 144: “In the mouth of Jesus [this] sentence is surely a profound interpretation of his entire life.”

You Will Live Again

You Will Live Again

Ezekiel 37:1-14[1]

  At some point in life, many of us lose hope. We find that, whether due to our choices, or due to circumstances beyond our control, the ground has given way beneath our feet, and we have been swept away to a place where we feel completely and hopelessly lost. That experience of being lost is part of life. I think it can feel so hopeless because when you feel lost, really lost in life, it can seem like you will never find your way again. It’s hard to hope when fear and sadness, loneliness and uncertainty are your constant companions. You wonder whether you’ll ever find joy and peace again.

  It would seem that the people of Israel felt that way during their time of exile in Babylon. They were a whole world away from everything that was “home” to them. After spending not only years but decades in a place that was very foreign to them, it makes sense that they felt lost and hopeless. That was the whole reason for Ezekiel’s vision of the valley of dry bones. As the Lord speaks to the prophet, he says that the vision of new life was intended to address the fact that “the whole house of Israel” was saying “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely” (Ezek. 37:11). 

  Into this despair, the message that the Lord had for Israel is that nothing and no one is ever beyond hope! Think about the lesson for today: what could be more hopeless than dried-out bones. How can bones come back to life again? What possibility would any of us see for God to bring new life? And yet, before Ezekiel’s eyes, God gives new life to those lifeless bones. And the message that God has for the people is that “I will open your graves of exile” (Ezek. 37:12, NLT) and “you will live again” (37:14). It was a dramatic demonstration that nothing and no one is beyond the hope of new life—not even those who have felt lost so long they’ve forgotten what it’s like to be home. 

  It may be dawning on some of us that we’re in a situation similar to the people of Israel. Extended isolation can push our ability to hold onto hope past its limits. We don’t know how long this form of “exile” will go on. It may go on so long that we begin to feel lost; lost to ourselves, lost to life, lost even to God. But one of my favorite themes of Scripture is that those who feel lost are never lost to God. In story after story, somehow, God always finds a way to give them life again. I believe that still holds true today. No matter how hard it may get, the promise of scripture is that no one is ever beyond hope. No one is ever lost to God. Even though we may feel lost, we can trust that we are not lost to God. No matter what our circumstances, we can hold on to the hope that in his time, and in his way, God will bring new life to us all. We can hold onto God’s promise that we will live again.

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[1] ©2020 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 3/29/2020 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Not Afraid

Not Afraid

Psalm 23[1]

A world-wide pandemic. One of the steepest downturns in the stock market. Hoarding of basic supplies. Schools closing and going to remote instruction. Restaurants going to take-out only service. Restrictions of the number of people gathering together. These are just some of the startling developments that have happened in less than a month, many of them in the last week! It would be impossible not to feel the stress, the loss, and even the fear of the moment in history in which we find ourselves. So what crazy person came up with a sermon entitled “Not Afraid?”

And yet, I think there are good reasons not to be afraid. The most important of them is our faith that no matter what happens, God is with us, supporting us with his love and mercy and grace. I think that’s the lesson of our Scripture reading from Psalm 23. It presents us with the image of God as “my” shepherd. In that role, God is the one who leads us all individually beside still waters and makes us lie down in green pastures. God is the one who directs our paths in the right way, simply because it pleases him to do so. God is the one who protects us with his “rod and staff” even in the most frightening situations. God is the one who prepares a lavish banquet and makes us the guests of honor.

All of these images reinforce the declaration that “the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” The images come together to bring calm and peace to us as we imagine what it might be like to lie down in green pastures, and to rest beside still waters. Or as we imagine his constant presence protecting us even in the darkest of valleys. Or the joy and refreshment of sitting down to a meal of all our favorite “comfort foods,” prepared just for us.

One of the important details of the Psalm is that the assurance it promises is based not just on personal experience, but on what God has done in the lives of his people in the past. This is especially true for the people of Israel. From the Exodus out of Egypt to the Wilderness wanderings to settling the land “flowing with milk and honey,” God continually protected and provided for his people. And so they could say, “the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.”^[2]

More than that, I believe God takes great pleasure in caring for us in this way.^[3] Some providers and protectors do so out of obligation or duty. God does so out of grace, out of love, out of his determination to be “God-who-is-with-us” and “God-who-is-for-us.” Of course, we see this grace and mercy of God most clearly in Jesus, who declared himself to be our “Good Shepherd.”

All of these images in the Psalm reinforce the promise that God is with us always, in whatever situation we may find ourselves. The God who watches over us is the one who constantly cares for and nurtures all creation—galaxies and nebulae we have never even seen; the sun, moon, and stars; plants, animals, rocks and trees; and people of every size, shape, and color. If God delights in caring for all of that, I think we can trust that God delights in caring for us. And so we can be “not afraid,” because “the Lord is my shepherd.”

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[1] ©2020 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 3/22/2020 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. James L. Mays, Psalms, 117-19.

[3] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 2.1:74-75.