"Beloved, let us love" Sermon for Sunday 2 May 2021

 

Sermon for Sunday 2 May 2021

Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem

The Rev. Carrie Ballenger

1 John 4:7-21


Every day, a Facebook group called “Daily Update on Jesus of Nazareth’s Health Condition” posts this simple message: “He’s alive.”

When I first saw this reposted by a friend, sometime last year during the beginning of the pandemic, I thought: What is this nonsense? Why would anyone spend time writing something like that? Every. Single. Day! But then I thought: Honestly, this is way better than what I mostly see on social media, including the nonsense I post myself. So I clicked “follow” so I would see it again.

And now I’ve been seeing these daily updates on the health status of Jesus of Nazareth for over a year, and today I have a completely different attitude about them. I even look forward to seeing those words: He’s alive! And the next day: He’s alive. And the next day: He’s alive! Honestly, now I look forward to seeing that simple message because every day is a day when we need to be reminded that Christ is risen, death does not have the final word, and yes, Jesus is alive!

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia.

 

Friends, all of the days are days when we need to be reminded “He’s alive” because it can seem that all our days are ruled by the power of death. Whether it’s cancer or COVID, violence and riots in the Old City, or the awful tragedy just the other day at Mt. Meron during a religious celebration, all too often death dominates the news cycle, our conversations, and our thoughts.

When the tomb of death is so visible and present among us, Easter and the joy of the Resurrection can seem very long ago and very far away.  

And this is one reason it’s so important to gather as a community and to turn again to Holy Scripture, the Word of life. We read the scriptures and hear the old, old story because we need to hear from God. However, we also need to hear from our ancestors in the faith. We need to understand how they contended with the sorrows of the world. We want to know how they kept their faith in the power of life and love over death and indifference. This is why, during the season of Easter, the first reading is always from the Acts of the Apostles—the account of the first Christians and the community they built after the Resurrection of Jesus.

Today, one of the readings we heard is from 1 John chapter 4. Scholars disagree about the author of this text, but it may have been John, called the “beloved disciple.” However, even the identity of the “beloved disciple” is in question. Some think the beloved disciple was John the Apostle, or perhaps Lazarus, or another unknown disciple, or (my favorite theory) it could even have been Mary Magdalene!

In any case, whoever the author is, we know that 1 John was written very early, before the end of the 1st century, and it was addressing a struggling faith community. The book deals with how believers are to handle differences in belief, or prayer, or conduct within a community. Should those who are different be cast out? Should we cast stones at those with whom we disagree?

The author of 1 John says: Beloved, let us love one another. Let us love, because love is from God.

Whenever I read this passage, I imagine myself at a church council meeting, listening to church members discussing a contentious issue. They’ve debated, they’ve held town hall meetings, they’ve surveyed the congregation, they’ve discussed things to death, they’ve maybe even prayed about it! And they still can’t come to an agreement. And then someone in the group says, out of the blue, “Hey, how about we try…love?”

Jesus teaches us that love is always the path to take, whether we’re talking about the church budget, or a dispute with a neighbor, or high-level negotiations between nations. Love is always the answer.

Love is always the answer, but it’s not always the easy answer. There are many reasons for this. Some people are just more difficult to love, to be honest! I don’t really feel like loving people who treat me badly, who take away my freedoms, who hurt me or hate me.

Also, sometimes it’s difficult to know what love looks like. What form should it take? Is it more loving to confront someone you know needs to find help for an addiction or a mental health issue, or is it more loving to be the soft place for them to land during their time of struggle?

Some of us have grown up with a deficiency of love, and now we are malnourished. For this reason we might hoard love, keeping it to ourselves, or we might find it difficult to share love with others. We might even lash out and hurt others from our own pain.

But it seems to me that the biggest obstacle to living out God’s love in our own lives is fear, and a particular kind of fear at that. This is the fear that maybe I am not loved. Maybe I am not lovable.

“God is love”, but God probably doesn’t love all the parts of me.

“God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him” but that Good News probably doesn’t apply to me. It probably doesn’t apply to me because I haven’t been to church in a year, I’ve been divorced, I’m not sure I believe anymore, I’m living with my boyfriend, I cheated on my exam, I told a lie…this list could go on forever.

The fear that we are not loved or lovable is painful enough for ourselves, but it can sometimes become the ugly root of much pain for others. Fear keeps us turned inward, trying to get it right, trying to be “lovable.” Both St. Augustine and Martin Luther said this is the definition of sin: “homo incurvatus inse”, or “humanity turned in on itself.”  When our focus is inward, we are unable to see the needs of others. We are unable to hear the stories of others. We’re unable to handle any kind of difference in others, because difference would be a distraction and threat to our all-consuming project of protecting, preserving, and promoting ourselves.

In this state, we are unable to love. And so we cast people out. Or we cast stones. Or we build walls. Or we start a war. Or we start a new church, with only those who agree with us.

And still, the Word of God insists: “Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God.”

It’s that last bit that is important. Love is from God. It doesn’t originate in us. If it were up to us, we would spend our whole lives navel-gazing, looking inward taking care of our own, surrounding ourselves with those who agree with us all the time.

But love is from God. We love because God first loved us. Love is possible because we have been filled with love from the moment God breathed into dust and created us. Love is possible because God didn’t abandon humanity when we forgot that we were made of love, but sent Jesus to love us all the way to the cross. Love is possible because today, even in our sometimes messy awfulness, the Holy Spirit fills us with the breath of love and turns us outward, always provoking us to love more, love better, love foolishly and extravagantly.

Episcopal priest William Countryman wrote:

“God’s love is not conditional on anything. It is expressed in forgiveness. You can ignore or oppose God, if you really want to. It will probably do you no great good, but it won’t deprive you of God’s love, either. God’s love has already taken any possible wrong or error or failure on your part into account. You are loved anyway. You have been all along. You will be all along.

It does make a difference, though, when you begin to suspect, however doubtingly and uncertainly, that this good news is true. It makes a difference not in God’s love, but in your awareness of yourself and your world.”

(William Countryman, “The Truth about Love: Re-introducing the Good News, 1993)

Hear that again: It makes a difference when you know the Good News to be true. When you know that you are loved and lovable, just as you are, it makes a difference. It makes a difference, not only for you but for others—because if you are standing firm on a foundation of love, there’s no need to fear. There’s no need to fear difference. There’s no need to fear the other. There’s no need to build walls or start wars or cast stones, because perfect love casts out fear. Thanks be to God!

This week I was blessed to help a Palestinian friend edit a paper he was writing in English. With his permission, I want to share this story with you, because to me it beautifully embodies the difference that knowing we are loved, knowing we are forgiven, and knowing we belong, can make in the way we interact with our neighbors.

My friend writes:

“One day I was travelling to Berlin to attend a conference. It happened that I sat beside a young man in his early 20’s. I started a conversation with him and discovered that he is an Israeli soldier. Of course, the political conflict became the topic of our conversation. Surprisingly, I enjoyed talking to this man. I learned about his perspective and I tried to share mine. What was shocking to me was when he said that since he was so little, he was told that Arabs are his enemy. I told him the same: that since I was a little boy, I have been told that Jews are our enemies.

When the flight attendant came and asked us if we would like to buy a drink, I asked if I could buy him one. He looked at me strangely and said: “But I’m supposed to be your enemy. Why would you buy me a drink?” I answered him: “You might be my enemy on the ground, but enmity does not work in the air.”

 

Those who say, “I love God,” and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen.

Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God.

 

May the peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Comments