Come to the Party

Come to the Party

Luke 15:1-3, 11-32[1]

Tony Campolo is a Baptist sociologist, pastor, author, and a well-known speaker in evangelical circles. In a book entitled The Kingdom of God is a Party, he recounts a story from a speaking trip he made to Hawaii.[2] He relates how he woke up hungry for breakfast at 3 am, so he found an all-night greasy spoon diner. Much to his embarrassment, about 3:30 am several prostitutes came in and sat all around him. To him, the talk was loud and crude. Understandably, he was uncomfortable and wanted to make a quick exit. But just as he was about to go, one of them said, “Tomorrow is my birthday, I’m going to be 39.” As it turns out, this woman whose name was Agnes, had never had a birthday party in her life.

So Tony decided to wait until they left, and planned with Harry, the owner of the greasy spoon, to throw her a birthday party the next night. As you can imagine, Agnes was speechless. She actually asked to take the cake to her nearby home. As they waited for her, Tony led the group in prayer. At that point, Harry said “Hey! You never told me you were a preacher. What kind of church do you belong to?” Tony recounts that it was “one of those moments when just the right words came,” and he said “I belong to a church that throws birthday parties for [prostitutes] at 3:30 in the morning.”

If you’re like me and you find yourself feeling a little uncomfortable with that sentiment, then our Gospel lesson is meant for us. The whole reason for the parables in Luke chapter 15 is that the religious people of his day found the company Jesus kept to be offensive.[3] The parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son are Jesus’ response to their complaint. In Tony Campolo’s words, Jesus answered them essentially by saying that the Kingdom of God is like a party![4]

What we may not catch at first glance is that the religious people of Jesus’ day were complaining because Jesus shared meals with “unsavory” characters. In that day and time, for Jesus to share a meal with “sinners” meant a great deal. It meant that he not only accepted them, but as one who proclaimed the Kingdom of God, it implied that God also accepted them.[5] That simply didn’t compute for the religious people of Jesus’ day. In their mind, either you were righteous, and God blessed you with his favor, or you were a sinner subject to God’s punishment.

We may find it surprising that Jesus’ parable of the “Prodigal Son” was intended to answer that kind of mindset. We tend to think of it as a story of a dramatic conversion on the part of one who had “hit bottom.” And it’s true that the prodigal’s story is a striking example of conversion and the lavish grace of the father who embraces and forgives his wayward child.[6] But it’s also meant to illustrate the fact that the people who responded positively to Jesus and his message were not the “respectable” type.

As it turns out, the focus of the parable may actually not be on the “Prodigal Son” at all, but rather on the “Elder Brother.” In the parable, the father’s welcome to his wayward son is so extravagant, that he slaughters a calf and throws a party! In other words, the whole town is invited to celebrate his return. When the “Elder Brother” hears the noise at the house and finds out that his father has thrown a party for that no-good wasteful younger son, he’s understandably angry. We oldest children tend to be the “responsible” ones, the ones who try to follow the rules, the ones who try to please their parents.

And that was how the “Elder Brother” saw himself. As a result, he resented the fact that his father was throwing a party for the prodigal. In this respect, he represents the religious leaders who criticized Jesus for welcoming and embracing “sinners” in his offer of God’s grace. But this is where the parable demonstrates the true depth of God’s grace. Not only does the father embrace the penitent son who returned, he also goes out to embrace the resentful brother who refused to come to the party.[7] He says to him, “we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found” (Lk. 15:32). In reality, the father was inviting him come to the party and join in the celebration.[8]

Unfortunately, those of us who try to live our lives seeking to follow God’s ways can develop a fairly unfriendly attitude toward those we deem offensive.[9] In the story about the party for Agnes, Tony Campolo goes on to say that Harry responded to his statement about belonging to a church that throws birthday parties for outcasts by saying, “There’s no church like that. If there was, I’d join it.” I’d have to say that Harry’s assessment of the church is probably pretty realistic.

That’s where Jesus’ parable comes in. In the parable of the lost sheep, Jesus said that “there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance” (Lk. 15:7). The parable of the prodigal son and the resentful brother portrays that celebration in real-life terms. The father extends the same grace to the resentful brother as he does to the prodigal son, inviting him to come to the party. But the parable is open-ended: we’re not told whether he accepts that invitation or not. In this respect, I think this story may be more for us than people like Agnes and Harry. As we keep our distance from the “outcasts” of our day, God invites us to come to the party and join the celebration of new life.

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[1] ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 3/6/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] See Anthony Campolo, The Kingdom of God is a Party: God’s Radical Plan for His Family, 3-9.

[3] “Sinners” did not necessarily mean that they engaged in immoral behavior. Cf. R. Alan Culpepper, “The Gospel According to Luke,” New Interpreters Bible IX: 295: “Those designated as ‘sinners’ by the Pharisees would have included not only persons who broke the moral laws but also those who did not maintain the ritual purity practiced by the Pharisees.” Cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ,112-113: “In the stories about Jesus the term ‘sinner’ is not yet defined theologically and universally as in Paul (Rom. 3.23). It is meant socially, as we can see from the paired concepts: well — sick, righteous — sinners, Pharisees — tax collectors. In the eyes of ‘the scribes and Pharisees’, ‘sinners’ are Jews who are not able or willing to keep the Torah and to follow the path of righteousness.”

[4] Cf. Culpepper, “Gospel According to Luke,” NIB IX:127: “Eating together, and not fasting, became the way in which the church remembered Jesus and declared the coming of the kingdom.” Cf. also Philip Yancey, What’s So Amazing About Grace?, 154 where he says that the point of the story of the Prodigal Son is that “those judged undesirable by everyone else are infinitely desirable to God, and when one of them turns to God, a party breaks out.”

[5] Cf. Fred B. Craddock, Luke, 186, where he observes that because the parable is so familiar many of us “have not felt the full impact of the offence of grace that it dramatically conveys.” Cf. also Culpepper, “Gospel According to Luke,” NIB IX:128: “By eating with toll collectors, they were making themselves unclean, but further they were showing their acceptance of the toll collectors. The Pharisees would have had no problem with Jesus for calling sinners to repentance. Had he called all the toll collectors to repentance, the Pharisees would have made him a national hero. The offense was that Jesus was demonstrating God’s grace by not requiring repentance before he would eat with toll collectors and sinners.” Cf. further Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke, 579: “As persons who respond positively to his message, toll collectors and sinners are represented in the parable as those whose (re)turn to God constitutes a restoration that calls for celebration. In welcoming such persons to the table Jesus is only giving expression to the magnitude and consistency of the grace of God.”

[6] It is easy to make the mistake of thinking that the Father’s compassion is a response to the son’s repentance. But that is not the image of the parable. This is demonstrated dramatically by the fact that the son isn’t even allowed to finish his rehearsed speech because of the Father’s joy over the simple fact of his return. Cf. Culpepper, “Gospel According to Luke,” NIB IX:305: “The picture is one of sheer grace. No penance is required; it is enough that the son has come home.” Cf. also Green, Gospel of Luke, 582: “it is the younger son’s return, and not his confession, that makes reconciliation possible.” Cf. similarly, Paul Tillich, “To Whom Much is Forgiven …” in The New Being, 9: “God’s forgiveness is independent of anything we do, even of self-accusation and self-humiliation.”

[7] Cf. Craddock, Luke, 189: “The father not only had two sons but loved two sons, went out to two sons …, and was generous to two sons … . … God’s love is both/and, not either/or. The embrace of the younger son did not mean the rejection of the older; the love of tax collectors and sinners does not at all negate love of Pharisees and scribes. Such is God’s love, but we find it difficult not to be offended by God’s grace toward another, especially if we have serious questions about that person’s conduct and character.”

[8] See Green, Gospel of Luke, 579, where he says that Jesus “issues an invitation to the Pharisees and legal experts who have responded to such a celebration, like the elder brother, with indignation. Will they align themselves with the divine economy and, having done so, join the celebration at the table with the lost who have been restored?” Cf. also Culpepper, “Gospel According to Luke,” NIB IX:295-96: “The scandal was that Jesus received such outcasts, shared table fellowship with them, and even played host to them. The God who showed mercy to the apostate Israelites in the wilderness rejoices over the salvation of every lost person like a shepherd who rejoices over the recovery of a lost sheep or a woman who rejoices over the finding of a lost coin. The question posed by the parables is whether we will join in the celebration—but to celebrate with God one must also share in God’s mercy.”

[9] Cf. Culpepper, “Gospel According to Luke,” NIB IX:305: “The elder brother represents all of us who think we can make it on our own, all of us who might be proud of the kind of lives we live. Here is the contrast between those who want to live by justice and merit and those who must ask for grace. The parable shows that those who would live by merit can never know the joy of grace. We cannot share in the Father’s grace if we demand that he deal with us according to what we deserve. Sharing in God’s grace requires that we join in the celebration when others are recipients of that grace also.” Cf. also Tillich, “To Whom Much is Forgiven …” in The New Being, 13: “The righteousness of the righteous ones is hard and self-assured. They, too, want forgiveness, but they believe that they do not need much of it.”

Satisfied

Satisfied

Isaiah 55:1-11[1]

Have you noticed that we live in a culture that actually creates dissatisfaction? For example, if you pay attention to the music in certain stores, you may notice they’re playing sad songs. They do that because they know if they can make you feel bad you’ll buy something. I find it interesting that every few years, car makers “update” their models. I don’t think they’re primary concern is making sure their product meets the latest quality standards. They want to make those of us driving the older models buy a new car. I won’t even try to dive into the world of clothing. Wearing last year’s fashions may be acceptable, but if you go back too far, well you just have to go shopping.

It seems to me that we believe that if we can only have that house we’ve dreamed of, or the job we’ve always wanted, or reach the goal we’ve worked so hard for, we’ll be satisfied with our lives. But unfortunately, reality usually leaves us feeling disappointed. I experienced something of that on the day I finally finished all my education. After spending 13 years working toward my Ph. D., the day I graduated was probably one of the biggest let-downs in my life! I had worked all those years, and when I graduated, they put my doctoral hood on me, gave me a diploma, and that was it. I felt like after all those countless hours of work, there should have been a band playing and fireworks going off!

The people to whom our lesson from Isaiah was addressed were a people who had learned to live with disappointment. Most of them had been born in exile, far away from the homeland that their parents and grandparents may have told them about. They had learned to settle for circumstances that were far less than satisfying because they had no control over them. Their people had been conquered by the Babylonian armies, and they had no choice but to live out their lives in a place that was far away from “home.” I would say they were thoroughly acquainted with dissatisfaction.

Into their disappointment and despair, however, came a prophet who promised them in the name of the Lord that they would be set free. They would return to their homeland and God would give them a whole new life there where they would live in peace and enjoy all the blessings they could hope for.[2] In fact, this prophet promised them that it would be such a great act of deliverance that it would make the Exodus from Egypt pale in comparison (Isa. 43:18-20). What God would do for them would be something totally new, something that they would never have been able to imagine.

I don’t know about you, but I wonder how I would have responded to such a surprising message. There they were, just doing their best to make it through each day, and this prophet offers them a hope that went far beyond their wildest dreams: God was going to act decisively to set them free from exile and return them home. I think I may have had a hard time believing it. I think they had a hard time believing it. When life leaves our hopes and dreams shattered in pieces, it can be easy to give up looking for anything better. When disappointment becomes our normal experience, we tend to have a way of just getting used to it.

I think the prophet knew that the people had some huge obstacles to overcome. So in our lesson for today, he warns them to stop putting their hopes in things that don’t have the power to satisfy.[3] By contrast, God was offering them a fresh start in life, another chance to find true happiness.[4] And all they had to do was to accept! Hear the words of the prophet again: “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price” (Isa. 55:1). God promised to give them all they could ever want, and the only price of admission was to be hungry for something more.[5]

If you’re thinking it all sounds too good to be true, I’m sure, like me, you would have had lots of company among the people of that day.[6] Unfortunately, those of us who have been around the block a few times may have experienced enough disappointment that we’ve given in to cynicism or even despair. But the prophet knew that too, and his answer is that when we think God’s promises are too good to be true, we’re vastly underestimating God. He says, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isa. 55:8-9). When we think that God’s promises are more than we can believe in, the prophet reminds us that God’s words of promise aren’t empty, campaign-speech promises. Rather, God actually does what he promises (Isa. 55:10-11).[7]

In a very real sense, the lesson the Scripture has for us today is that we find true satisfaction in life in the places we typically don’t look. Who would really believe that we could find true and lasting happiness only in the life and the love that God offers us. Surely we have to go out and get it ourselves! But the fact is that just trying harder to get what we want out of life usually leaves us even more disappointed. The way to be truly happy, to be truly satisfied with our lives, is to let go of our expectations, and the illusion that we somehow control our own destiny. The way to be truly happy is to accept God’s free gift of a new way of living that provides all that we’ve been looking for.[8] It’s been there all along—in the life and the love that God offers us all.[9] All we have to do is accept it. And when we accept that incredibly generous gift, that’s when we find that we can be truly satisfied in life.

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[1] ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 2/28/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church in Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Isa. 40:1-11; 42:14-16; 43:5-7; 49:8-13.

[3] Cf. Paul D. Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 180: “Second Isaiah has already made a strong case for God’s power and God’s abiding love for Israel. Now he turns in verses 6-9 to the essential point: He calls out to the people to ‘seek the Lord.’ The plight in which they find themselves traces not to weakness or inattention on God’s part. The blessing of the covenant of peace awaits them like an open door. Instead, they have chosen death, that is to say, they are preoccupied with wicked ways and selfish thoughts that cut them off from communion with the source of life. The prophet therefore urges them to ‘return to the Lord, that he may have mercy …, for [God] will abundantly pardon’ (55:7).”

[4] Christopher R. Seitz, “The Book of Isaiah 40–66” New Interpreters Bible VI: 482, “Chapter 55 capitalizes on the word of God from Isaiah’s day and sees it accomplishing what God intends in the present day. The waters that were once rejected—those connected with Zion’s secure status (Psalm 46)—are once again a source of strength (55:1). Wine and milk can be bought without money, for the expensive vines that became briers and thorns (7:23) are again there to be had (free wine) because they have been changed into mytle and cypress (55:13). Abundant milk had been promised in Isaiah’s day for “everyone left in the land”; that word has now come to fruition.” Contrast Klaus Baltzer, Deutero-Isaiah: A commentary on Isaiah 40–55, 468, where he insists that the invitation does not come from God, but from Zion/Jerusalem, who is “inviting the people to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.” He carries this theme throughout his interpretation of this passage. For example, Balzer (p. 476), sees the invitation to “seek the Lord” also as an invitation to pilgrimage.

[5] Cf. Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 177: “an unusual invitation is extended. The list of those to be included is not limited to people of social standing, not even to people of sufficient means to come properly attired. The only requirement is hunger and thirst.”

[6] Cf. Balzer, Deutero-Isaiah, 479: “what human beings find especially incomprehensible is God’s will for salvation, his ‘compassion.’”

[7] Cf. Seitz, “Isaiah 40-66,” NIB VI:483, “It is striking what sort of flexibility God is prepared to show with the word once delivered. Clear reversals of judgment, promised beforehand, are executed. Waters once rejected are offered again. Promises of an everlasting covenant with David are enlarged to include God’s people. The former word has gone forth and has not returned empty. In other cases, it has gone forth and undergone surprising adaptations, which no one could have imagined. Our thoughts are not God’s thoughts, the prophet reminds us; and yet God’s word, once delivered, maintains a sure continuity through time, accomplishing what God had planned originally.”

[8] Cf. Hanson, Isaiah 40-66, 177-78: ““The most precious gift of all, the gift of life in God’s presence, is free. All that can exclude you is your insisting that there are places you would rather be.”

[9] Cf. Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out: Three Movements in the Spiritual Life, 125: “In Jesus Christ, God has entered our lives in the most intimate way, so that we could enter into his life through the Spirit. … By giving us his Spirit, his breath, he became closer to us than we are to ourselves. … Praying in the Spirit of Jesus Christ, therefore, means participating in the intimate life of God himself. … We receive a new breath, a new freedom, a new life. This new life is the divine life of God himself.” Cf. similarly, Barbara Brown Taylor, An Altar in the World, 178, where she recounts how she learned that “prayer is more than saying set prayers at set times. Prayer, …, is waking up to the presence of God no matter where I am or what I am doing. When I am fully alert to whatever or whoever is right in front of me; when I am electrically aware of the tremendous gift of being alive; when I am able to give myself wholly to the moment I am in, then I am in prayer. Prayer is happening, and it is not necessarily something I am doing. God is happening, and I am lucky enough to know that I am in The Midst.” Cf. also Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation, 25: “The only true joy on earth is to escape from the prison of our own false self, and enter by love into union with the Life Who dwells and sings within the essence of every creature and in the core of our own souls.” Cf. further Richard Rohr, Eager to Love: The Alternative Way of Francis of Assisi, 66-67, where he says that living the life where “I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” is a matter of living “connected to the Source, or to be ‘on the Vine,’ as Jesus says.” He continues by emphasizing that “this is something you can only fall into and receive—and nothing that you can achieve, which utterly humiliates the ego, the willful, and all overachievers.”

(Un)Willing?

(Un)Willing?

Luke 13:31-34[1]

I think for most of us, it can be a challenge to find a way to get a handle on our relationship with God. When we think about relationships, we normally have in mind the connections we have with people. We can interact with people. We can talk to them, we can laugh with them, we can touch them and they can touch us back. Nevertheless, human relationships can be incredibly challenging. Even though you may have spent a lifetime living, eating, laughing, and loving with another person, it can still be incredibly difficult to know what is going on inside. You can spend a whole lifetime with another person and still not feel like you really know him or her.

How much more difficult is it to carry on a relationship with God, whom we can’t see. We can talk to God, but unless you have a special gift that I don’t have, we don’t hear God speaking to us in audible words. Yes, we may have a feeling that God is telling us something, or leading us in a particular direction, but it’s incredibly easy to misinterpret a “feeling.” And, although Jesus made God more “real” to us by living as a human being, in our time we can’t actually touch Jesus, or God for that matter, in the same way we can touch another human being. I think one of the great challenges of our faith is how to maintain a relationship with God throughout our lives, through thick and thin, come what may.

Our Gospel lesson for today addresses what I think is the crucial element in this challenge. To better understand this text, I think we would do well to put it in the context of Luke’s Gospel as a whole. In this section of the Gospel, Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, where he knows he is going to complete his mission of giving up his life.[2] As Luke recounts this story, he seemingly drags it out—for almost half of the book! The reason for this is that, as he tells the story of Jesus’ journey, Luke recounts a great deal of Jesus’ teachings about what it means to follow him.[3]

In this particular chapter, Luke begins with a story at the synagogue—just as he began his account of Jesus’ ministry. Jesus’ initial visit to the synagogue in Nazareth, as you may recall, provoked criticism because he made it clear God’s mercy was not going to be bound by the people’s prejudices. In this chapter, Jesus’ visit to the synagogue provokes a similar reaction (Luke 13:10-17). When he heals a woman who had been bound for 18 years, the synagogue leader responded with a very stingy view of God: she should have come on another day, not the Sabbath (Lk. 13:14).[4] But Jesus reminded them that if they had the decency to unbind their livestock for a simple drink of water on the Sabbath, how much more should God’s grace be allowed to free someone who had suffered for years (Lk. 13:15-16).[5]

This sets the stage: Jesus represents a view of God that most of the Jewish people could not accept because they were too tied into their traditional ways of thinking. And so Jesus laments over them all when he laments over Jerusalem: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” (Lk. 13:34).[6] His view of Jerusalem—meaning the people of Israel as a whole—as those who are unwilling to live in relationship with God echoes sentiments expressed throughout the Hebrew Bible.[7]

His view of God as a mother hen trying to gather her chicks under her wings is one that may seem startling to us at first, but it also expresses one of the key messages of the Bible. God loves us with a love that will not let us go. God is constantly working in each and every life to “gather us” to himself through various ways. In fact, some would say God will use whatever it takes in order to bring his people back to him.[8] But Jesus knew that many of the people of his day and time were “unwilling” to be drawn into God’s ways and God’s life in this way.[9]

It seems to me that when we think about our own relationship with God, that’s the fundamental question we have to address: are we willing to be drawn into God’s ways and God’s life, no matter what the cost? It is not a question that is simple or easy. It’s not simple because it requires us to be willing to open ourselves to what God may be doing in our lives.[10] That doesn’t always line up with the agenda we have for ourselves.

And it’s not easy because it’s not something that takes place quickly. God draws us into his life and his love over time as we open ourselves to him by practicing spiritual disciplines. Traditionally that has taken the form of prayer, solitude, submission, and service.[11] But for some of us, there are other disciplines that can be more helpful: being mindful of God’s presence every day, finding ways to practice our faith in the routines of life, or simply experiencing God through the beauty of a sunset.[12]

Whatever means we use, the key is to be willing to open ourselves to God’s presence and work in our lives. Like any relationship, it’s something we have to cultivate. That can be challenging because we can feel vulnerable when we open ourselves, and most of us don’t like feeling vulnerable.[13] So we may find ourselves unwilling to face the difficulty and the discomfort of allowing ourselves to be drawn more fully into relationship with God. But that just leaves us stuck in the same old ruts. On the other hand, if we’re willing, it means finding ways of opening our lives more fully to God’s presence.[14] It means embracing the new life that God wants to give us through repentance and new levels of obedience. It means cultivating our relationship with God. At the end of the day, however, it means responding to what God is doing in our lives by being willing.

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[1] © 2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 2/21/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church in Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke, 534, where he points out that “Central to the Lukan depiction of Jesus’ mission is its grounding in the divine purpose.” He summarizes further, “As the divine agent of salvation” Jesus “must carry the divine message to Jerusalem, but Jerusalem kills those whom God sends.” Cf. similarly, Fred B. Craddock, Luke, 169, where he says that “the approaching passion in Jerusalem casts its shadow over” this whole section of Luke’s Gospel.

[3] Cf. Joel B. Green, The Theology of the Gospel of Luke, 105, where he says that Luke’s purpose is to “solidify th relation between disciples and master, to provide instruction in the way of discipleship, and to encourage people to join him on the journey of serving God’s purpose.”

[4] Cf. Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke, 523. He says that the synagogue leader “publicly challenges Jesus’ authority as a teacher and reasserts himself as the authorized interpreter of Scripture” by simply making a pronouncement that implied “the legitimacy of his interpretation is a given.” He also adds that according to scribal tradition, her condition was not life-threatening, therefore “Her treatment could thus wait until tomorrow, so, …, her need did not supersede Sabbath law.”

[5] Cf. Green, Gospel of Luke, 519: “Jesus’ encounter with this woman and his ensuing interpretation of her liberation as a necessary manifestation of the divine will, an outworking of the presence of the kingdom, on this day, the Sabbath.” Cf. also ibid., 525, where he points out that Jesus counter-argument expresses his view that “today, this day, even a Sabbath day” is “the right time for the redemptive purpose of God to be realized.”

[6] This is a very difficult saying because it can tend toward anti-Semitism. Unfortunately that is an anachronistic reading of the text. Jesus, as a Jewish teacher, carries on the tradition of intra-Jewish debate about the people’s obedience to God (or lack thereof). In that vein, Green, The Gospel of Luke, 538, says, “How will Jerusalem respond to Jesus? Will its inhabitants receive him with pronouncements of blessing appropriate to ‘one who comes in the name of the Lord’? Or will they declare him to be a false prophet, an apostate, as they had God’s earlier envoys? Jesus seems to hope for one response while expecting another.”

[7] Cf. Green, Gospel of Luke, 537: “Jerusalem, then stands as a cipher for Israel as a whole: hence, not only must it be the ultimate destination of the prophet proclaiming the message of reform, but it is there, where the message of reform contrasts most sharply with accepted beliefs and practices, that resistance to the prophet will reach its acme.”

[8] Cf. Richard Rohr, Eager to Love: The Alternative Way of Francis of Assisi, 15, where he says that Franciscan spirituality “incorporates the seeming negative and moves our life to its hard edges, thus making things like failure, tragedy, and suffering the quickest doorways to the encounter of God.” He continues, “There is nothing that God cannot and will not use to bring us to divine union—even sin (felix culpa).” Felix culpa is a latin phrase meaning “happy fault,” and it is prominent in the Roman Catholic liturgy for the Easter Vigil: “O happy fault that merited such and so great a Redeemer,” the “happy fault” referring to the original fall of humankind into sin.

[9] Cf. Green, Gospel of Luke, 539: “Jesus so identifies with God’s care for Jerusalem that he is able to affirm his long-standing yearning to gather together his people for shelter and in restoration. Alas, this desire is not shared by the Jerusalemites.”

[10] Cf. Richard Rohr, Breathing Under Water: Spirituality and the Twelve Steps, 8-14, where he describes the process of opening up three inner spaces: our minds, our hearts, and our bodies.  He says (p. 8), “To finally surrender ourselves to healing, we have to have three spaces opened up within us--and all at the same time: our opinionated head, our closed-down heart, and our defensive and defended body.”

[11] For a summary of these disciplines, see Richard Foster, Celebration of Discipline. For an account of how mainline Protestant churches are using them as a source of renewal, see Diana Butler Bass, Christianity for the Rest of Us. 

[12] Cf. Barbara Brown Taylor, An Altar in the World, xv, where she describes spiritual discipline as the process of “becoming more fully human, trusting that there is no way to God apart from real life in the real world.”

[13] Cf. Gail R. O'Day, “New Birth as a New People: Spirituality and Community in the Fourth Gospel,” Word & World 8 (Winter 1988): 54, “We are afraid to embrace newness, to accept transformation, because such acceptance would mean letting go of the things that defined our lives before newness was offered. We stubbornly cling to our definitions of life, because we are afraid to accept God's offer of new identity.”

[14] Cf. Henri Nouwen, Here and Now: Living in the Spirit, 56, where he says that the deepest meaning of our personal experience is “a constant invitation calling us to turn our hearts to God and so discover the full meaning of our lives.”

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.