Bret Hammond

Hosea laments Israel's lusts for idols, but never loses sight of God's unfailing love and compassion. In Hosea 11, we hear God's constant call for his people to return to him. This sermon follows the Four Pages of the Sermon method developed by Paul Scott Wilson, a framework designed to move from trouble to grace both in the text and in our lives. It invites listeners to reflect deeply on the nature of divine love—one that refuses to abandon, even when abandonment seems justified. For more on the Four Pages approach and how it shapes sermons like this, visit: https://www.brethammond.com/2025/04/four-pages/.

Jerry Seinfeld once noted that most people's number one fear is public speaking, and number two is death. This means that the average funeral attendee would feel more comfortable being the person in the casket than the person delivering the eulogy. Moses would have preferred the casket. In Exodus 4:10, he cries to God, "Pardon your servant, Lord. I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue." There's something familiar to me in Moses' words. I've heard many people tell God what they can't do, but I've also witnessed what happens when they overcome that fear and serve anyway. I've listened to amazing messages from people who told me they couldn't speak, heard heartfelt prayers from those who told me they couldn't pray out loud, and seen God's grace poured out on those who said "yes" to him. Before we list our limitations to God, let's pause and listen to what he can do through us—all of us. Just as God addressed Moses' concerns before he left the burning bush, he speaks to each of us. If we listen carefully, we can hear his call for us and his promises as well.

I lost an hour of sleep last night, but that doesn't begin to compare to the hours of sleep I lost as a teenager contemplating the text I'll be preaching today! Growing up, 1 Thessalonians 4:13-17 was read as a warning. One day, a trumpet would sound, and in the twinkling of an eye, Christians all over the world would disappear. Those left behind would be plunged into a time of tribulation and difficulty like never before. That thought terrified me! Of course, it terrified me before I became a Christian. I didn't want to be left behind with the rest of the losers! I distinctly remember driving back to town after an early morning hunting trip with my dad and seeing no cars on the road. "It's happened, and I've missed it!" I thought. "It's going to be every man for himself, and I didn't even get a single squirrel this morning! I am SOOO dead!" But it terrified me after I became a Christian, also. The thought of leaving friends and family behind filled me with anxiety about how they would fend for themselves and what they might have to endure. And, of course, as a teenage boy, I was plagued with the fear of what I would miss out on if Jesus came back today! There was so much of life ahead of me—cars, college, and . . . well . . . other stuff. Sociologists told me there was something I was thinking about at least once every six minutes. "Dear Jesus, I want to go to heaven, but please, not until after I've done THAT!" If only I had read the next verse. After all that bizarre stuff in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-17, verse 18 concludes with, "Therefore encourage one another with these words." Not "terrify one another," not "scare teenage boys out of misbehaving," but "encourage one another!" I would have slept much better if I had only read that last verse! In this message, needing one more hour of sleep, I do my best to bring encouragement as we unpack the hope Paul loads into these few verses.

"Have you heard about Jim? The tests were negative." You reply with, "That's good news!" "Did you hear about Carrie? She had the baby! It's a boy, and both are doing great!" And again, you reply, "That's good news!" You know good news when you hear it! It would be entirely accurate to say that the Bible is a book of good news. That's what the angel brought, right? Doesn't it seem like we just read Luke 2:10 a few weeks ago? "I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all people." Good news causes joy. Good news brings relief. Good news is worth telling! And so, when Paul was worried about his friends in Thessalonica—did their faith survive after he was torn away from them so abruptly? Timothy returned with a report about them, and the only way to express his response was with words usually reserved for his Savior. "Timothy has just now come to us from you and has brought good news about your faith and love" (1 Thessalonians 3:6). It's a biblical oddity; one of only two times "good news" is used in the New Testament for anything other than salvation. But its usage makes me wonder, what's the good news about you and me? What about us is worthy of language reserved for our King? I suspect the good news about the Thessalonians could likely be the good news about you and about those who share their faith love with you.

When Trish and I went out for dinner the other night, I held the door open for an older couple walking into the restaurant. That same night, an older man opened a door for me because I was carrying precious cargo—a pizza to take home to the kids! We have dedicated greeters at South Side who hold the door open for everyone. An open door is an invitation and so much more. It lets people know they're welcome, not just into the building but the community. Opening the door for someone tells them that they belong. Psalm 24 calls for doors to be opened for an honored guest. Verse 7 calls out, "Be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in!" We hold the door for guests, friends, and those weighed down with years and pizzas. And we open the door for God as well, that the King of glory might enter our lives and join us in our joys and sorrows, celebrations and struggles. In this sermon, we wrap up our look at Psalm 24 by opening the door for the King to come in.

Few books of the Bible go off the rails as quickly or completely as the book of Job. Before the end of chapter one, there's a cosmic bet and a family left devastated. From there, things get worse! Before chapter two ends, three of Job's friends show up. They'll spend the following twenty-two chapters expressing their ignorance of God and assumptions about their friend. But before they insert a single foot into their collective mouths, they do the smartest thing they could have ever done. Job 2:13 says of those three friends, "They sat with Job on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great." Having spent time sitting with the suffering, mourning with those shaken by loss, and keeping company with those numb from the news of diagnoses, one of the most important lessons I've learned is the one in which Job's friends should have persisted: You don't need to say anything; you only need to be there. That's what our friends who are hurting need more than any words of wisdom we can spout or silver lining we can find in their pain. They simply need someone to show up. There is great peace in realizing that, without saying a word, we can bring the presence of God into their need by just showing up. In this message we go to Psalm 122, accompany King David to worship, and find encouragement from Drew Dyck's new book, "Just Show Up."

Click here for the entire sermon series "What Child Is This?" https://soundcloud.com/bretnet/sets/what-child-is-this-christmas?si=dfc8a9abb2374a899fc42017210d5ec6&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

Of all the names listed in Jesus' genealogy, there is one that isn't named. Matthew only identifies her by her failure. He says, “she who had been the wife of Uriah,” but we know he means Bathsheba. There's a message for everyone who has ever been identified by their failure; everyone who has ever been uninvited to a Christmas dinner; everyone who has longed for a second chance and a new identity. The entire series, "Awkward Family Christmas" can be found at this link:https://soundcloud.com/bretnet/sets/awkward-family-christmas

Luke doesn't begin his Christmas story with Mary, Joseph, and the manger in Bethlehem. He begins a whole year earlier in the temple in Jerusalem and an elderly couple caught between a dying hope and a living prayer. Click here for the whole sermon series: https://soundcloud.com/bretnet/sets/unpacking-christmas. https://brethammond.com

In this sermon podcast, we revisit a Christmas message I presented at the end of 2020. With so much turmoil in our world and our lives, all we wanted was for God to show up. https://brethammond.com

The command in 1 Thessalonians 5:18 is, “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” Let's be honest and admit that's not always easy. Some circumstances are so difficult we may never find our way to thanksgiving. This is not a reason to beat ourselves up or condemn ourselves for our rebellion against a biblical mandate. Instead, it's an opportunity to open our eyes and see that thanksgiving isn't something that just happens in ourselves; thanksgiving happens in community with others. https://www.brethammond.com/2019/11/thanksgiving-at-the-end-of-the-world/

I think about all the lessons I've heard from the book of Jonah over my life. There have been lessons about obedience, faithfulness, and love for neighbors and enemies. But I don't think I ever heard a lesson about thanksgiving. That is, until now. It's right there in the heart of the story and in the belly of the great fish! Jonah cries out to God, “I with the voice of thanksgiving will sacrifice to you; what I have vowed I will pay. Salvation belongs to the Lord!” (Jonah 2:9). And if Jonah can give thanks in his very dark place, maybe we can give thanks even when the darkness seems to consume us. Thanksgiving from the Pit - Jonah 2:2 https://www.brethammond.com/2019/11/thanksgiving-from-the-pit/

Thanksgiving is more than just a holiday. It's the mindset God calls us to have. In fact, he commands it! In 1 Thessalonians 5:18, we're called to “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” God commands us to give thanks! But how do we do that? How do we obey a command that goes beyond the circumstances we might find ourselves in? I believe God's call to give thanks calls us to look beyond ourselves and into his purpose for our lives. In viewing it that way, thanksgiving is less about the moment (or the holiday) and more about the way we prepare ourselves for whatever circumstances might come at us. https://www.brethammond.com/2019/11/a-tank-full-of-thankful/

I have a beautiful needlepoint of the Fruit of the Spirit that was given to me as a gift. It hangs on the wall in my office as a reminder of the wonderful lady who gave it to me and the character I aspire to as a Christian. The front is flawless, but—even though I've never seen the back—I know it is a mass of tangled threads and looks nothing at all like the carefully crafted handiwork on the front. There is something of that reality in my final message on the Stranger Things from the Bible. We easily recognize the beauty of the Christmas season. The lights, colors, music, and temperatures make the approach and celebration of the holiday apparent to us. But a dragon seeking to devour a newborn? This is a tangled, messy image from an upside-down reality that is foreign to us and sounds more fitting for Game of Thrones than A Charlie Brown Christmas. https://www.brethammond.com/2019/11/the-lady-and-the-dragon/

Being a Jewish Itinerant Exorcist was big money. It was something akin to “Uber for Demons,” or maybe “Demon Dash” instead of “Door Dash.” You see, if you had a demon problem, you would either have to head to the temple in Jerusalem, which was a long trip and a huge hassle; or you could take the problem to the local synagogue, which could be embarrassing. What could be done about a pesky demonic infestation? There's got to be an easier way! And so, there were semi-professional exorcists who could be called on to take care of the problem. They knew a few prayers and incantations and would do their best to remove your demon (or the next one's free). Such were the seven sons of a high priest named Sceva. And as the story in Acts 19 shows, they weren't very good at their job. Read more about this message in my blog post here:https://www.brethammond.com/2019/10/the-seven-sons-of-sceva/

My third message from the Stranger Things from the Bible is the bizarre story of the transformation and humiliation of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon. Nebuchadnezzar looks upon the greatness of his nation and basks in his own glory. Maybe it's the influence of The Wolf Man, but I always imagine this story happening on a moonlit night. Soon, he transforms into a cursed beast and flees from his home. Read the blog post that accompanies this sermon by clicking here:https://www.brethammond.com/2019/10/stranger-things-from-the-bible-nebuchadnezzars-humiliation/

The second story in our journey through the Stranger Things from the Bible takes us to 2 Kings and the wicked city of Bethel. It's here that newly appointed prophet, Elisha, is verbally assaulted by youths and responds with a curse. God hears his “prayer” and promptly responds by sending two bears out of the woods to maul them. Disturbing story? You bet! Stranger thing from the Bible? Of course! But it's a lot of fun to preach! This is one of those texts a lot of preachers don't touch. Aside from being a strange story, it's one that needs a lot of care, explanation and research. For a deeper dive on this text, check out my blog article here: https://www.brethammond.com/2019/10/stranger-things-from-the-bible-elisha-and-the-bears/

Our Bibles are not the clean, happy books we think they are. They're full of scary stuff. Yes, there's faith, hope, and love in those pages; but look hard enough and you'll find witches, ghosts, dragons and things that go bump in the night. The Bible is full of strange things . . . and even stranger things. In 2016, I spent October, a month we normally look for ghosts and goblins, digging into some often ignored passages. I titled the series Stranger Things from the Bible after the Netflix series that drew us into the Upside Down. There's much in the Bible that might also seem upside down. The Stranger Things series, set in the fictional small-town of Hawkins, Indiana. Hawkins doesn't feel all that far removed from our own small-town in Illinois. I felt the similarities and the callbacks to the heydays of the 1980s would go over well with our crowd. I also hoped that the strangeness of the stories would disarm my hearers and allow the punch of the message to surprise them. And it helps that I love these weird Bible stories! These stories might make us uncomfortable, but that doesn't mean they should be ignored. “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness” (2 Timothy 3:16), right? The Bible's stranger things deserve our attention. We can gain much from these stories. https://www.brethammond.com/2019/10/stranger-things-from-the-bible-saul-and-the-witch-of-en-dor/

I'm sure my count is off, but by my records, I've now preached something north of 1,500 sermons. The vast majority of those were written for the Kansas Christian Church, a church that challenged and encouraged a young man to preach again and again. I was in junior high when the youth minister recruited three of us to help him preach a sermon one Sunday morning. I read my portion as fast as possible, knowing that the sooner I got done, the better for me and everyone else. Then, as a freshman in Bible College, I was asked to come home to preach for a Youth Sunday. The night before, I tossed and turned and preached the sermon repeatedly in my head. That Sunday morning, the sermon took all of seven minutes, and I swore I'd never preach again! Before we get to the messy goodbyes today, I can't help but commend Kansas Christian Church. Serving my home church for over two decades has been an honor, but our bond goes back further than that. We would be hard-pressed to name every soul who put us on this course together. We could point to lessons learned in VBS fifty years ago, relationships built through youth groups, and families who brought an extra plate so the kid who came to church alone would have a place to sit during potlucks. We would point to those who thanked a nervous young preacher at the door thirty-eight years ago and assured him he did a fine job and they'd listen to him again. And, from eternity's perspective, we would see the prayers of faithful saints who believed God could do more with a young man's life than he ever thought possible. And I know God continues to answer those kind of prayers. In this, my final sermon at Kansas Christian Church, we'll pray a prayer we've been praying together for at least twenty-one years. I'm eager to share a message and a prayer with you.

A man once told me I was taking communion wrong. "It has to be one loaf," he said. "If it isn't, you're sinning." I countered by asking him, "What if it's a really big church? How do you make one loaf that serves a thousand in worship?" He explained to me that was why there shouldn't be any big churches. "A church should never be bigger than one loaf can serve," he said confidently. I realized that's nowhere in the Bible! I also wondered if he had ever seen that episode of I Love Lucy where she bakes her own bread (if you know, you know). In my years of faith, I've had communion with one loaf and multiple loaves. I've had unleavened bread, homemade bread, crackers, and croutons. I've had grape juice, wine, blackberry juice, and, one difficult Sunday, a glass of water. I've placed cracker crumbs on the tongues of the dying and given them a single drop of juice off the tip of my finger, reminding them of Jesus' presence and the nearness of his promise for them. "His body and His blood. Christ be with you." I've come to believe there is only one essential element to the Lord's Supper, and it's not found in what's served on the table but who is encountered at the table. Oh, and sometimes there isn't even a table! This message has been brewing in me for over thirteen years. In this passage, we meet Jesus at the table, and I'll tell you about another table where "a woman of the city" encountered Jesus. I'll also tell you about the long night when I learned a new communion song.

How far away is heaven? There are days when it feels very close, aren't there? I've often returned to the words of the preacher Arthur John Gossip. He was about my age when his wife suddenly and tragically died. The following Sunday, he was in the pulpit, preaching a sermon he titled, "But When Life Tumbles In, What Then?" Given the freshness of his grief, he spoke words I've only begun to feel with my limited pain and perspective: When we are young, heaven is a vague and nebulous, and shadowy place. But as our friends gather there, more and more, it gains body and vividness and homeliness. And when our dearest have passed yonder, how real and evident it grows, and near it is, how often we steal yonder. I confess I didn't preach much about heaven when I was younger; it didn't seem important. But, over the years, as more and more friends have taken up residence in that "happy land, far, far, away," it's become a vital topic, and heaven has felt much closer. Wouldn't it be something if we could "steal yonder" and see what those who have gone on before us see? We would be amazed at how near heaven truly is. Today at Kansas Christian Church, we'll do our best to "steal yonder" with John as he tours the throne room of God in Revelation 4. We will see both the strange and familiar on the other side of the sea.

I awoke yesterday morning to the news that Jimmy Buffett had died. I've long enjoyed his music, but more than that, I've always been struck by his ability to build community. There is no particular type of Jimmy Buffett fan ("Parrotheads," as they like to be known). Instead, you find people from every stripe of life: doctors, lawyers, truck drivers, motorcycle riders, preachers, and young and old alike! I certainly can't justify all of Buffett's songs, but I maintain that there is something sacred about community. I can't help but consider the crowd at a Buffett concert and hear something akin to Acts 2, "Are these not Parthians and Medes and Elamites" . . . "and hippies and professionals and grandparents and grandchildren? We hear them all singing 'Cheeseburger in Paradise!'" Early in Jesus' ministry, we find him already building community. Mark 2:2 tells us that, as he preached in a home in Capernaum, "many gathered together, so that there was no more room, not even at the door." I've seen concert crowds packed in like that! Rather than be dissuaded by such a crowd, four desperate men chose to get creative to find a way to get their friend to Jesus. Getting people to Jesus still takes some creativity on our part. In this message, we'll hear the story of these friends and how Jesus had a greater blessing in store for them than they could imagine. He still has unimaginable blessings for us!

My ears perked up yesterday as I heard the unfamiliar phrase "Post-Traumatic Growth." "That's not right," I thought. "They mean 'Post-Traumatic STRESS,' right?" Our painful and traumatic experiences leave us overwhelmed and weakened, living with the stresses we'll carry for the rest of our lives. That's all I've ever heard about, anyway. But no—there is the possibility for greater blessings ahead! While we often focus on the pain and stress from trauma, the growth potential is even more significant than the potential for stress. Trauma specialist and counselor Kobe Campbell has found that on the other side of healing from trauma, one can find a life of personal strength, closer relationships, a greater appreciation for life, new possibilities, and spiritual development. Psalm 13 is a testimony to the possibility of post-traumatic growth. It begins as a lament, crying out to God over the disappointment and unfairness of life. But it ends in a place of love, salvation, and grace. In the middle, David decided to trust God, the same choice we can make.

You've probably heard the old joke before. "How do you know when a politician is lying?" The answer is, "His lips are moving." Psalm 12 seems to be written to point fingers at political figures. Verse 3 speaks of "flattering lips" and "tongues that make great boasts." In verse 4, they stand defiant to God's judgment, saying, "With our tongue we will prevail, our lips are with us; who is master over us?" Lips are definitely moving here! But, a closer look at verse 2 reveals the psalm is not addressing your least favorite politician. That verse declares, "EVERYONE utters lies to his neighbor." The key word is "everyone." Psalm 12 is our own indictment; our character has been compromised, and our neighbors—the ones we're commanded to love as we love ourselves—suffer. Is there any hope for them? For us?

Paradise is burning. The news and images of the wildfires on Maui have been heartbreaking. This morning's news brought the death toll up to 93. A place renowned for its peace and beauty is experiencing loss and fear that I cannot begin to comprehend. Let's all pray for Maui. It was startling to read how, as the fires overtook the community of Lahaina, around one hundred people sought refuge in the ocean to escape the fires and smoke, requiring their rescue by the Coast Guard. Refuge is often found in the most desperate places. In Psalm 11:1, David declares, "In the Lord I take refuge." He found peace and safety in the presence of God while his world was burning. But even from his place of refuge, voices were taunting him to abandon the safety he found in God. Those same voices still taunt us to abandon our faith and return to the chaos of the fire and flood around us. In Psalm 11, we'll find our refuge in the strength of God's presence, just as David did. In this message, Brenda Buell will share a story about a friend who found refuge in the Lord during a moment of fear. After worship, stick around for food, fellowship, and a visit with Brenda.

My son Connor loves music, and he's got some great taste in the songs he plays on his iPad. The only problem is he stops songs before they're over. "Click!" They're done when he's done! Sometimes he moves on to the next one; other times, he starts the song over again, never letting it finish. This drives Daddy nuts (no worries, it's a short trip). I need a song to resolve, come to its conclusion, and wrap up as the artist intended. DJ Connor has no such need, though. He could listen to the scales on a piano, "Doe, Ray, Me, Fa, So, La, Tea ..." and be perfectly happy leaving it hanging. "DOE, Connor! It has to end with DOE!!!!" Connor would love Psalm 9. It's notorious for not having an ending. It just stops! Even worse, the questions that inspired David to write this song just hang there. "Why is there no justice in the world?" "Why does evil seem to thrive?" "Where is God while his people are hurting?" David asks his questions, but no answer comes back in return. Well, at least not in Psalm 9, anyway. In this message, we'll go to Psalm 9 and hear the questions we've all asked of God. We'll let David lead us to the one who doesn't always offer answers but always offers himself.

The image on the thumbnail of this message is the result of focusing a telescope for over twelve hours on an area of space no bigger than a grain of sand held at arm's length. This “deep field image” revealed that even the blackness of space is filled with creation. Those stars aren't stars—they're galaxies! The warps and swirls are caused by intense gravitational forces so strong they are actually bending light. The whole image is a peek into the distant past. The light you're seeing is an astonishing 4.6 BILLION years old! That image is from the James Webb Space Telescope, which allows us to peer deeper into those heavens than ever before. I find myself humbled and overwhelmed with the thought that, though these beautiful images have been present in the skies since long before recorded history, you and I are privileged to be the first generation to see them. I can't help but find my soul drawn to Psalm 8:1, “Oh LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens.” And, because I'm from Kansas, Illinois, when I see the James Webb Space Telescope images, I can't help but think of our dear friend of the same name—better known to us as Jim Webb. While the mirrors of the space telescope reflect the lights of the sky, Jim had a beautiful way of reflecting the light of Jesus. In his humility and compassionate spirit, Jim demonstrated the love of God for everyone he encountered. I think about his character, and I cannot help but find my soul drawn to Psalm 8:3-4, “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?” I share King David's awe as I realize we don't find the culmination of God's creation in the wonders of the heavens but in the wonder of humanity that bears his image. I need a James Webb Space Telescope to show me the expanse of God's creation. I need a Jim Webb to show me the expanse of His love.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me." We learned that one on the playground, and we learned it isn't true. Even the Bible declares it false! Proverbs 12:18 warns, "Thoughtless words can wound as deeply as any sword." Ephesians 4:31 instructs, "Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice." Words hurt. We've all been on the receiving end of careless words that have cut us, and for too many of us, the words weren't careless; they were carefully calculated to wound us deeply. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can break my heart. David wrote Psalm 7 in response to wounding words. In verse 2, he laments that these words have torn his soul apart, "rending it in pieces, with none to deliver." Rather than stew about them or wonder how he could say something back equally as cutting, David turns it over to God and pours out his hurt in the Psalm. I don't think we can hear Psalm 7 without hearing something of the wounds we've received, perhaps even the wounds we've inflicted on each other. But we also hear the promise of the righteous God who knows our wounds as deeply as we do.

Did you celebrate the great American holiday last week? I'm speaking of Prime Day, of course. I managed to snag a few deals through Amazon; a gift for my daughter's birthday, some shirts for Connor, and a replacement for a recently broken kitchen gadget (that I promise I won't break again). The deals were too good to pass up. Then I went to my order page to see how soon they would ship and found myself asking, "How Long?!?!" Apologies to Erik, our awesome UPS guy, but what's the holdup, buddy?!?! 😉 My impatience can get the best of me at times. It's alright when I'm waiting on a delivery. It's much worse when I'm waiting on deliverance—that is, God's rescue from difficult circumstances or heartbreak. In those moments, the question, "How long?" takes on a much different tone. How long until I'm healed? How long until I come out of this funk of depression? How long will it take for life to feel normal again? Maybe you've found yourself asking that kind of "How long?" question. That's where David finds himself in Psalm 6. In verse 3, he cries out with his question. "My soul also is greatly troubled. But you, O Lord—how long?" I wish I could tell you Psalm 6 provides an answer to the question, but it doesn't. What we do find in the Psalm is company; you're not the only one who has asked that question while scraping and trying to hold on. You're not alone. That realization itself can be the start of the answer we cry out for.

I've heard there are two kinds of people in the world. Some wake up and say, "Good morning, Lord!" And then some wake up and say, "Good Lord, it's morning!" I know which kind I am. Which kind are you? It might surprise you that King David appears to have occasionally been with us in the latter option. Psalm 5, a morning prayer penned by David, begins with the words, "Give ear to my words, O Lord; consider my groanings." If you begin your day with groanings, you're in good company with at least one man after God's own heart! But David knew he had a choice. He could give in to his groaning and fill his day with bitterness or align his heart with the Lord and find blessings. Of course, we're faced with the same choices this morning and every morning. In this message, we join David in his morning prayer and find the source of blessings that he found.

Did you say your prayers before bed last night? In "A Light in the Attic," Shel Silverstein offers his own skewed view on bedtime prayers, offering one that is honest, hilarious, and a little demented (as only Silverstein can do): Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my toys will break. So none of the other kids can use 'em….Amen. I'm amused at the candid selfishness in Silverstein's prayer. It feels a little too familiar. "If I can't have fun, no one should have fun!" In Psalm 4, David offers a more redemptive approach to bedtime prayers, calling us to ponder our anger, place our trust in God, and find the peace for sleep that only God can supply. Psalm 4 offers solace and strength as the evening sun dips below the horizon. "Now I lay me down to sleep" becomes "In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety" (verse 8). God neither breaks our toys nor our hearts. He meets our anxiety with his presence.

I attended a small concert Thursday evening to hear my favorite band, Dawes. Just about everyone there was a longtime fan, like myself. We all knew their songs well and anticipated that they would play our favorites. Three songs into their set, a very familiar guitar riff started. The entire audience was instantly on their feet. I, for one, let out a "WOOOOO!" (I confess, I'm one of those people who yells "WOOOOO!" at concerts). When the band hit the chorus, every last one of us sang along, fists pumping in the air. It was our fight song. This was a diverse crowd—young and old (I'm pleased to say I was NOT the oldest person at this concert), different races, identities, challenges, and sensitivities (one man was practically in tears when I told him how much Connor loves the band). To an outsider, we appeared to be a random collection of strangers. Still, when our song played, we were one, shouting out the chorus together. That's what the Psalms do for us; they unite us in songs that speak to our joys, sorrows, hurts, and hopes. Sometimes they even give us a fight song. Today we turn to Psalm 3, the first psalm with a complaint (but not the last). David's foes have him running, and their number seems to be growing. Where can he turn for the deliverance he needs from his enemies? David needs a fight song. Thankfully he finds one and shares it with us!

We had an early Father's Day family outing to the zoo yesterday. Grandpa had a great time watching the animals with Ruby. It was a good thing we had Gracie along; she read the plaques to us, giving us essential information about the various animals. For instance, she told us we shouldn't smile at the spider monkeys because they take bared teeth as a sign of aggression. "Who cares?" I thought. There was a fence between us and the monkeys, so how aggressive could they get? I grinned big and noticed one of the monkeys swinging along the fence until he got in front of me and bared, not his teeth, but another part of his anatomy at me. Gracie should have read the part about how excellent a spider monkey's aim is. Thankfully I stopped smiling in time, and the monkey lost interest in me shortly after I lost interest in it. Aggression is often unpredictable. I've seen aggressive drivers, sports fans, and political fanatics. Thankfully none of them have mistaken my smile as an excuse to unload on me. Not like that monkey, anyway! Psalm 2 asks the question, "Why do the nations rage?" Why, indeed? What is to be gained by the anger and abuse often hurled at others with whom we disagree? Nothing for the kingdom of God, that's for sure! And the Psalm makes it clear that it's the nations that rage. The people of God are invited to join their Heavenly Father for a very different response. And as for me, I'll keep smiling! I'll just stand a bit further back.

I've joked that the only reason I keep going to school is to maintain my Spotify student discount. Spotify is a service that contains a massive collection of music. It's introduced me to new songs I've fallen in love with and allows me to build playlists of my old favorites. So whatever mood I find myself in, there's a Spotify playlist that speaks to it. This summer, we're going to the Psalms, that carefully curated playlist of songs in our Bibles. Spotify's got nothing on the Psalms! Whatever you're feeling or need to feel, there's a Psalm that speaks to your heart. Today, we'll begin with Psalm 1, with blessings for the one who "delights in the law of the Lord." As we hear these ancient songs resonate through our hearts, we may find that we're not just reading the Psalms; the Psalms are reading us.

A Funeral Message for Darrell Short by Bret Hammond

I was an hour away from home, looking for some relaxation on a beautiful summer day. My destination was a rails-to-trails project where I could walk, think, and pray. As I approached the parking lot for the trail, my old vehicle balked! It didn't want to turn! With great effort and a lot of trouble, I steered into the lot and assessed the problem. My power steering was out. An hour from home. Jack LaLanne would have approved of the workout I got on the drive back home. Every curve was a challenge. I felt right and left turns burning in my forearms, and just keeping the old clunker pointed in the right direction kept me sweating. No power steering meant I was left to my strength to get home. "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you," Jesus promises in Acts 1:8. Power to steer the church against the tide of the world and power to meet life's challenges with holiness and peace. Ten days later, that power was given on the day of Pentecost. And yet, you and I confess that too often, we live like we have no power steering, struggling to make our way in this world through our own strength. What blessings would we know if we took our hands off the wheel and trusted God's guiding power?

Tim Keller passed away Friday, three years after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Keller was a significant voice in the Christian faith, often confrontational, always kind, and always pointing people to Jesus. I followed him on Twitter, where, among the short rants offered by way too many, Keller presented grace, reason, and Christ. A week ago, Tim Keller posted, "If the most powerful person, the power behind the universe loves you with all his heart, soul, strength, and mind, and you can see that on the cross, why are you afraid?" All this while his body daily reminded him that time was short. Tim Keller had what the apostle Peter called "a living hope." That's been the driving force as we've looked at 1 Peter in these weeks after Easter. "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead." So, I echo Keller, "why are you afraid?" in this message, we wrap up our trip through 1 Peter with a fantastic promise for our lives today and eternity as well.

"Trouble won't kill ya." In his song, "La Vie," Billy Sprague tells the story of his grandmother Myrtle and the trials she had lived through, outlasting two husbands, all of her sisters, brothers, and cousins. Myrtle was left to wonder why she was still alive. I can't help but think of Mom today and all she lived through. She came from a family of nine children, but she buried most of those siblings before her death. She endured a miscarriage, the death of a son by suicide, her husband's descent into dementia, and the challenges of her own weakening body. Still, I think she and Myrtle would have agreed. As Billy Sprague put it, "She smiles and she'll tell ya, 'Trouble won't kill ya,' 'cause if it did, she would have died." The chorus of the song plays between French and English. "Oh, la vie est dure, that much is sure. Mais Dieu est bon si bon." As Dad would say, "Pardon my French" (sometimes I doubt that he actually knew French); the lyrics translate, "Life is hard, but God is good, so good." The chorus concludes, "Through the fire and the rain, I call him by name. And when the night is long, I remember mais Dieu est bon (my God is good)." Grandma Myrtle and my mom each had a simple faith. They didn't have answers to the tough questions, but they endured the fires that burned through their lives. So today at Kansas Christian Church, we turn to 1 Peter 4:12, "Do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you." Maybe we'll hear something of Myrtle and Marge echoing back, "Trouble won't kill ya." And encouraging us on with, "God is good, so good."

Dad taught me always to carry a spare tire and jack in the car's trunk. That served me well until I found someone with a flat one day, and my tire iron didn't match their lug nuts. That's when I started carrying a four-way. Then I found someone with an easily fixed tire puncture, and that's when I started carrying a patch kit. Then I started carrying a tire pump. And then . . . Be Prepared. That's not just a lesson for Boy Scouts; it serves us all well to be ready for whatever the world throws in our direction. I hear something of that in Peter's call to be prepared to give a reason for our hope (1 Peter 3:15). Too often, it's easy to tell people what frightens us and causes us to lose sleep. Are we prepared to share our hope over our fears, though?

There are movies we've watched so often that certain lines have burned themselves into our memory and found their way into everyday conversation. So, for a number of you reading this, all I have to write is, "Tis but a scratch!" and, well . . . if you know, you know! As a kid, watching the Black Knight suffer injury after injury, losing limb after limb, all the while maintaining that he's "had worse," was hilarious. As an adult, though, I've seen too many times when friends in horrible circumstances have minimized their pain, downplayed their suffering, and feigned, "Tis but a scratch," while their hearts were breaking. What is it in us that causes us to trivialize our travails? Why do we struggle to admit when we're hurting? It only prevents us from allowing others to bless and help us through our pains. Peter reminds us that pain is universal—we all experience it. He also calls us to see that there are lessons in our pain, lessons that draw us closer to God and closer to each other. In 1 Peter 2:19-25, we hear Peter's pain prescription and find the grace to endure together. Oh, and "Alright . . . we'll call it a draw."

In 1927, following the sudden death of his wife, Arthur John Gossip preached his sermon, "But When Life Tumbles In, What Then?" This sermon continues to impact us as we search for a faith that will take us through the troubles of life. The full text of this manuscript can be found at https://www.brethammond.com/2023/04/but-when-life-tumbles-in-what-then/

Of all the words of faith and devotion in the Bible, I find myself reflecting on three spoken by Daniel's friends before the fiery furnace. "But if not." When faced with the choice of either bowing down and worshiping idols of gold or submitting their lives to the fire, these men spoke with conviction about the power of God and faith in his ability to save them. In Daniel 3:17, they declare, "Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning firey furnace." In the next verse, though, they follow up their confidence with the words, "but if not." But if he doesn't save us, but if we burn in the furnace, but if our lives are taken from us, "we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up." I hear something I need in that statement. I need a "but if not" kind of faith. I know God can heal, but if not, I will still worship him. I'm confident in God's ability to answer my prayers, but if not, I am still his. Today, a week out from Easter, we need to hear the call to a "but if not" kind of faith. We'll go to 1 Peter and find a faith that lives despite the reality of our griefs, troubles, and lack of sight. We need this kind of faith.

Mom had a cute little nickname for all of us when we were growing up, including Dad (maybe especially Dad). She liked to call us “hard-headed Hammonds.” Apparently, the ability to stick to your convictions despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary was not a quality Mom valued as much as the rest of us. But, of course, she was likely the one who had to clean up the messes that resulted from our hard-headedness, so she had her reasons. Maybe my reputation as a hard-headed Hammond is what impresses me so much about Thomas in the Easter story. Jesus is resurrected, but Thomas isn't there to see him. Then, for a solid week, he hears Mary tell him about seeing Jesus in the garden. How many times did Peter and John tell him about the empty tomb (with John mentioning how he won the foot race)? Finally, Cleopas and his friend run back from Emmaus and tell him about encountering Jesus on the road. But still, hard-headed Thomas stands by his convictions for eight days. “Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will not believe” (John 20:25). That's some Shorty Hammond-level hard-headedness right there! But despite doubts and hard-headedness, Jesus shows up alive and shows himself to Thomas. I take comfort in knowing that the truth of the resurrection is greater than my doubts. And in Jesus' correction to “doubting Thomas,” I hear a blessing for you and me; for all of us hard-headed ones. In this message, we hear from Thomas himself. He is risen! He is risen indeed!

Confession time: In my first year of preaching, I had no clue what Palm Sunday was. I didn't grow up in the church, and while I knew about Easter (even beyond the bunny and eggs), I had no idea there even was a Palm Sunday. I had never shouted "Hosanna!" and had never even seen a palm tree, let alone waved a branch! It's worse than that, though. I remember doing the research, reading the Gospels backward, counting from the Sunday Jesus was resurrected, backtracking his path through Jerusalem day by day, and uncovering that one week earlier, he entered Jerusalem. I was pretty sure I was the only one who had made this discovery. I probably even started working on a paper to document my findings. It's still available for peer review if anyone's interested. Somehow, though, Palm Sunday has gone from complete obscurity to one of the most significant memorials in my year. Palm Sunday stops me in my path and puts me on Jesus' path, walking with him through the week to the upper room, the cross, and the empty tomb. Indeed, the Lord's Supper on Thursday night will draw me into Christ's presence, and the darkness of Good Friday will place me at the foot of His cross, but Palm Sunday starts me on that journey. Today's "Hosannas" prepare me for next Sunday's "He Lives!"

Famously timid and fearful of death, Woody Allen was once asked, "Do you want to be immortalized by your work?" He replied, "No, I want to be immortalized by not dying." Asked again, "What do you hope people will say about you in 100 years?" His reply was, "He looks good for his age." What would we expect people to remember of us 100 years from now? I suppose if the Internet is still up and running, a collection of my sermon files could be floating around somewhere. With God's blessings, there might be some great-grandchildren, but I doubt they'll know my name any better than I know those of my great-grandparents. Then again, maybe people will be saying, "He looks good for his age . . . or he would if it weren't for the beard." We've spent the last two months with Micah of Moresheth, a small-town minor prophet who should have been forgotten long ago. Yet, 100 years after his death, his words brought comfort and hope to a major prophet marked for death. Jeremiah's life and message were impacted by reading Micah. His legacy of faithfulness preserved Jeremiah in difficult days. One wonders how the legacy of our faithfulness might bless those who come after us. Today, we will hear Micah from Jeremiah's perspective and see something of our own legacy of faithfulness.

The population of the planet is over 8 billion people. Set aside issues of overpopulation and food supply for a moment and simply consider the question, how unique can you actually be when compared to 8 billion others? Even if you're a one-in-a-million kind of guy, there are 8000 other people exactly like you! We come to the end of Micah's book, and he asks the question he seems to have been asking all along. "Who is a God like you?" (Micah 7:18). Not one-in-a-million or even one-in-eight-billion, but the wholly unique, wholly loving, wholly holy Creator of all! There are no comparisons; accept no substitutes! This is the ONE! Today at Kansas Christian Church, we'll hear Micah's question and the answers he finds only in God. They're the answers that still point us to the one-and-only.

I don't know about the rest of you, but I feel like I lost at least an hour of sleep last night, maybe more! I just tried to make coffee without water in the coffee maker. I was taking my pills and cautiously tried to remember which ones were chewable and which ones weren't. I'm going to need clear and straightforward instructions this morning, and then I'm going to need a nap! Thankfully, we're in Micah 6:8 today. It doesn't get more clear and more straightforward than that verse! Micah answers the question for us, "What is good, and what does the Lord require of you?" Cut through all the confusion, Micah! We've all had a rough night! Please give it to us in simple language we can understand! And then Micah delivers. In this one straightforward verse, we find more than a picture of what it means to be faithful; we find the image of Jesus, the one who has faithfully loved us. Today, of all days, we need simple and straightforward. We need Micah 6:8. And then we need a nap.

I know he can't defend himself, but I have to tell you, my son, Connor, is one of THOSE people. What people, you might ask? Connor is one of THOSE people who play Christmas music all year long! Yeah, I don't know where he gets it, either. It can be the middle of a blazing hot July, sweat dripping, the air conditioner doing its best to keep up with the humidity, and Connor will be blasting "Jingle Bells" from his iPad! While the rest of us are gorging on Halloween candy, he's listening to "Silent Night." And while we're hunting Easter eggs, Connor is decking the halls! As for me, I'm strictly seasonal when it comes to Christmas, but today I have to break that rule. As we make our way into chapter five of Micah, we find ourselves in that little town of Bethlehem, hearing a promise customarily reserved for December 25th. But maybe, hearing this passage on the verge of spring will bring us a perspective for all seasons and a hope that holds us long after the Christmas tree has been taken down. And who knows, Connor may make it through the whole sermon today! That'd be a Christmas miracle for sure!

Our friend told us a story from early in his ministry when a little girl asked him, "What does God look like?" How would you answer a question like that? What was she hoping to hear? "He's an old man in a white robe sitting on a cloud?" "He looks a lot like your grandpa, only not as chubby?" So my friend wisely took her to the Bible and showed her the attributes of God listed there. He's merciful and gracious in Exodus 34:6. He's our rock and fortress in Psalm 18:3. And, of course, in 1 John 4:8, he is love. Whatever our needs, there's an attribute of God that tells us of his care for us. Micah's people needed to know what God looked like for them. Their desires had led them astray; sin held them captive, and their leaders had failed them. So, Micah presents them with three attributes that show them who they could trust God to be. Of course, as we look at these attributes, we cannot help but see Jesus in them. So today, we'll see what God looked like for Micah's audience and who he continues to be for us.

I had my regular check-up, and the doctor is happy with my blood pressure and cholesterol. He says I'm looking healthy, but there's just one problem. I'm not sad enough. He's ordered sackcloth and ashes for me. Oh, and a viewing of "Old Yeller." Ok, so it's absolutely ridiculous that a doctor would prescribe sadness, yet that's precisely what Micah prescribes for his people. His diagnosis is that they have abandoned God, and his remedy is "lament and wail" (Micah 1:8) and to shave their heads as a sign of mourning (verse 16). Micah's people need to learn how to be sad. But we don't want to be sad! Instead, we want to declare with Nehemiah, "The joy of the Lord is our strength!" But Micah asks us, "Do your hearts break for the things that break God's heart?" So until they do, Doctor Micah calls us to lament everything we aren't. In this message, we'll hear what breaks God's heart and Micah's call to a holy sadness.

He's just some no-name preacher from a small town you've never heard of. I'm speaking, of course, of Micah of Moresheth. Wait . . . who did you think I was talking about?!?! Tucked in the back of your Old Testament is the little book of Micah. He's not a big name like his contemporary, Isaiah. He doesn't stand out like his neighbor in the Bible, Jonah. Micah's not flashy; he's faithful. He calls us back to the heart of God and shows him to be infinitely compassionate and filled with lovingkindness. I feel a particular affinity for Micah, and I'm eager to share him with you. Today at Kansas Christian Church, we'll hear Micah's call to walk with God and know his heart. We'll see that, despite living in a world where corruption infected the highest authorities, Micah found a way to point his people to hope—a hope we still share.