Love, Again John 5:1-8, John 4:7-12
May 10, 2009
Metairie, Louisiana
Any preaching professor will tell you that there are really only half dozen sermons to be preached. There is not much variation topically... the variation is in the embroidery - the stories, the poems, the testimonies which weave the various threads to illustrate the theme. My first response to this news as a seminary student (long, long ago) was: "How Boring!" Then in later years, beyond my enthrallment to novelty, I had another response, "Well, of course!"
Naturally, there are 6 or 7 themes that are endlessly repeated - these are the themes that are universally experienced by every soul that has walked God's good earth - whether in high heels, sandals, work boots, golf cleats, or just plain barefoot. Every single one of us has experienced birth, family, work. Every single one of us meets joy, sorrow, anger, fatigue and death. O.K., that's 8 but who's counting? (probably Miss June, our treasurer). But the greatest theme, of course, is love.
John's letter which we have been tracking for a few weeks is deeply engaged in love. Last week we heard the word 3 times in 5 sentences. This week we hear the "L" word 15 times in 5 sentences, 3 times a sentence. And the love theme continues as the letter advances to it's conclusion, when the author apparently runs out of embroidery thread.
I study lectionary texts with a Lutheran pastor and as we read this week's epistle, we wondered together - what is going on with John's community that their leader is nagging them on the topic of love, sounding like a worried mother with quarrelsome children.
When you think about it, loving the people that you live with every day is the biggest challenge, isn't it? It is easier to love someone who DOES NOT leave dirty dishes in the sink, dirty socks on the floor, old Taco Bell remnants in the car and the gas gauge on empty, don't you think? Perhaps we need every bit of sentimentality about family and romanticism about marriage, just to hang in there with those who have the proximity to annoy us the most. Of course, we do love them the most too, and are loved by them the best, because... well... because the only survival strategy in a close and constant relationship is to love.
Love is the secret to everything, isn't it? "The open sesame of life" one author calls it. We have not learned much at all until we have learned to love. We know that about family life, about marriage, about community. Most of us learned something of sacrificial love at our mother's knee and certainly without a mother's love our very chances of survival are considerably reduced.
The most often selected Bible verses at weddings (and frequently at funerals too) are 1st Corinthians 13 - a basic survival manual for intimate living... with its glorious conclusion: "now I know in part, then shall I understand fully, even as I have been fully understood. So faith, hope and love abide, but their greatest of these is........love.
Who can hear those words without a tear forming at the corner of the eye and an ache in the throat? My own tears form when I hear the verses again, remembering that I have never met the ideal standards of love - not with my mother or father, not with my sister or brothers, nor in almost 40 years of marriage with my husband or my children.
And yet, they love me and I get to love them. Imperfectly, to be sure... but still. I have them to love, an inexpressible gift.
I know a man, let's call him Anthony. Anthony worked his way out of poverty from immigrant status, say in Boston, to a prominent position in the tech industry. He attended a prestigious college and law school. And he made a bundle. I mean he made a bundle of bundles. He could be one of those fellas with dollars in a Swiss bank, tucked away to evade taxes, that the I.R.S. hopes to track down.
He has an apartment in Paris, a summer mansion on Nantucket Island, and a ski lodge in Aspen, Colorado. And he has servants in every location - to paint his house, to scrub his toilets, keep his lawn and gardens, detail his cars, prepare gourmet meals.
Anthony does not know the last name of any of these servants. He has not looked at photos of their grandbabies, nor does he know that one has an ailing elderly mother, or a spouse with a permanent disability, or a brother with an addiction. He does not know or care. That is my idea of poverty.
The most challenging circumstance I've ever encountered was going to dinner with Anthony because he brutalized the staff. We always went to the finest restaurants for these company dinners. Places like Antoine's or Commander's. Lucky for us, Anthony always paid the bill.
Unluckily for us Anthony liked to torture the staff over a multitude of tiny errors. We were kept waiting, though we had reservations; the table was too small, too near a service door, without a view of the mountains. The service was untimely; the food not prepared to his orders. One time I saw Anthony smack a waiter's hand with a fork that had maybe an eighth of a lettuce leaf on it. There was not a waiter who escaped Anthony's withering remarks.
The obvious irony is that we never had an enjoyable meal at any of these outstanding restaurants. I do not know how Anthony came to be so unloving, but I suspect he was not well loved in his childhood. He learned the work-ethic, but never learned the love-ethic.
I am delighted to report to you that I spot the love ethic generously woven thru Good Shepherd U.C.C.
Sure, we have had some quarrels, even intense ones. Sure, a harsh word might be spoken occasionally. Yes, we have some history of antagonisms. So What?
So did the early church. We were conceived in division, a hurtful division when the earliest Christians were expelled from the temple by the religious authorities of the time.
Believe me, St. Peter and St. Paul could get their dander up over various angry debates and Paul continually reprimands the Corinthians and Galatians for their failure to get along.
But I am delighted to report to you that I spot the love ethic at 5122 West Esplanade. Here is some evidence. I had a member, she knows who she is, love me with a kiss and a hug, even though I was late to the Mother Daughter/Banquet and held up the party.
Isn't that great? She loved me anyway. That's the love ethic.
I had a musician give me the "it's Ok", whisper and gesture when I omitted his original composition from worship by accident. He knows who he is. He gave me a break. Isn't that great? That's the love-ethic.
I have seen Council Members who held strong opposing views on how to proceed with a difficult decision come to consensus and pray together. Isn't that great? That's the love-ethic.
I have seen members provide anonymous contributions to fund people in sudden financial distress? Isn't that great? That's the love-ethic.
I have seen here in this very congregation - and not only here but in other U.C.C. congregations - I have seen our visitors from other denominations look surprised and deeply pleased when I announce that all, everyone of us gathered, with no discrimination, all are welcome to our communion table.
Most churches do not practice an open communion table. Rather the "worthy" and the "unworthy" are segregated (as if any of us is worthy). And some get to feast while the others starve.
I am so glad, so glad to announce every time we share the Lord's Supper, that everyone is welcome, where Jesus Christ is host.
When the church is at it's best, it is a love-ethic church and love is sprinkled liberally as hot sauce on a po' boy. And when the church is at it's best we spot that love ethic and celebrate it.
The spaces carved out in our sanctuary for wheel chairs speak of the love ethic. The offerings of adults for our children, regardless of being related - all bespeak the love ethic. Sacrificing the fun of the volleyball leagues in our gym so that it can be used by work campers to restore New Orleans - that's the love-ethic.
Real love, agape love, means taking a compassionate attitude that extends beyond mere likeability or mutual benefit. None of us is likeable all the time, but by God, everyone is loveable all the time. And that's the great good news proclaimed by Jesus.
A big part of love is forgiveness, the intentional habit of letting go of blame and recriminations and faults of the past in favor of a future that is not predetermined by the past.
But forgiveness is a topic for another day. For today, Mother's Day, the topic is the love-ethic. We hear John's letter, we get love. We sing the hymns, we get love. We pass the peace, we get and receive love. Right here. right now. The love ethic.
Take that with you to share with whomever you meet this week and I promise you will have a wonderful week. I guarantee it.
And let the people say, "Amen"
