Advertise on podcast: Bret Hammond

Some weeks, the loudest voice in your life isn’t God’s—it’s the one telling you what you’re not. It whispers before you’re fully awake. It follows you into the car, into the office, into the quiet moments. And most days, it doesn’t need anyone else’s help; we’re perfectly capable of discouraging ourselves. Relationship researchers John and Julie Gottman found that negative words hit us harder than positive ones, so much so that it takes about five positive interactions to counter just one negative moment. And while other people’s criticism can sting, the deeper wounds usually come from the things we mutter inwardly: You’re not enough. You’re not capable. You’re pretending . . . and someone will eventually find you out. Left unchecked, that inner voice only grows louder. It’s exhausting trying to outshout your own self-doubt. Thankfully, our Heavenly Father has already stepped into that fight on our behalf. In Psalm 136, He doesn’t reassure us five times but twenty-six times that His love never ends. Twenty-six reminders that you are seen, known, and cherished. Twenty-six reasons to trust that His steadfast love truly endures forever. As we approach Thanksgiving, let’s fill our hearts with the greatest reason to give thanks—the never-ending love of God.

In John 14:15–27, Jesus promises the Holy Spirit as our Advocate, Comforter, and Friend—the one who steadies our hearts and keeps us focused on him. Using imagery from The Wizard of Oz, Bret compares the Spirit’s quiet guidance to Toto’s loyal presence beside Dorothy: alert, faithful, and always sensing what’s true. When fear and distraction rise, the Spirit redirects us toward Jesus and fills our troubled hearts with peace—the kind the world can’t give or take away.

Are you having a good morning? Let’s see if we can fix that. Did you know crocodiles can gallop like horses? They’re crazy fast! Did you know there are approximately 40 supervolwcanoes worldwide, and they are way overdue to erupt? They could go off any minute now. Did you know your cellphone has ten times more bacteria on it than the average public toilet? In a world where worries are everywhere, Jesus’ question in Matthew 6:28 sounds a little simplistic: “Why do you worry?” Why wouldn’t I worry, Jesus?? Have you heard about the volcanoes??? But here’s the thing: when Jesus talked about worry, he didn’t mention crocodiles, volcanoes, or germy phones. No — he mentioned food, drink, and clothing. Those daily needs we all have and, for the most part, have enough of. But what about those who don’t? I can’t do much about the crocodiles out there, but if I’m not worried about my daily needs, maybe I can do something about someone else’s worries. Today at South Side Christian Church, we’ll hear Jesus’ words about worry and his prescription for a worry-free community. I hope you can join us at either 9:00 or 10:30 am. We’d love to see you there. Oh, and you probably ought to wipe that phone off after you’re done reading this.

"Who was that masked man?" I must have heard that line a hundred times growing up, watching reruns of The Lone Ranger. At the end of every episode, the townspeople would stand around in awe as the stranger rode off into the sunset, wondering about the identity of their mysterious rescuer. But it doesn't take a mask to wonder about someone's identity—or your own. Far too often, we hide behind something—pain from the past, shame we've carried too long, names that were never really ours but somehow stuck. In Mark 5, Jesus meets a man who's lost his name to chaos. He knows himself only by his wounds. But Jesus doesn't leave him there—he speaks freedom and gives him an identity greater than he could have imagined. If you've ever wondered who you really are, Jesus offers an identity rooted not in your failures, but in his grace.

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/