A
Sermon on John 15:9-17
Preached
May 25, 2003
First
Christian Church, Corpus Christi, Texas
Have you ever noticed that some things
work better in concept than they do in reality?
Take dieting, for example. It is a great concept. It makes sense to eat less, feel better and
live longer. But then we go to a
Christian Women’s Fellowship luncheon, Eunice Dunn brings chocolate chip
squares, and reality sets in. Dieting
is great until we have to actually do it.
The same could be said for exercise,
socialism, public transportation and, of course, tithing. In concept, they all sound pretty good. They sound as if they might be wise to
do. And yet history has shown that they
are harder to make work than we might imagine.
They are great ideas until we have to implement them.
Jesus’ commandment to love one another
might fall into the same category. Conceptually, it sounds great.
Of course, we can love one another.
But loving one another is easier as a concept than it is a reality. Just think about some of those in our
congregation.
There’s
Rick. He’s a nice guy, but I remember
someone saying, “Never trust a man with a beard. He’s trying to hide something other than his chin.”
Or
take our graduates. They look nice in
their commencement wear, but you have read the stories. The papers tell us their slackers, that they
aren’t motivated like previous generations.
That could make them hard to love.
There’s
Gene. He’s leaving us today. Moving away to the Hill Country.
There’s
Doug. He’s a lawyer. Enough said.
There’s
Bobbi. She’s a woman, and we all know that it was Eve that caused Adam to
fall. And, of course, she's a
redhead. You’ve got to watch out for
redheads.
How
about Vicente. Vicente isn’t like the
WASPs who dominate this church. He’s
from Cuba.
And
here I am—a preacher. You know about
preachers, don’t you? Jesse Jackson,
Oral Roberts, Jimmy Swaggart, Jim Bakker.
“Frauds, all of them,” some say.
And
then there’s Gene. Did I mention that
he’s leaving us?
Of course, I exaggerate a bit, but you
get the point. We can find a reason not
to love just about anyone. It might be
their race, their gender, their sexual orientation, their political
affiliation, their occupations, or anything else. It might be that he said something that hurt our feelings or she
did something that she shouldn’t have done.
That fact is that there are as many reasons not to love people as there
are people. Love works as a concept, but the reality of loving others,
particularly others who differ from us is hard.
But there is something
deeper at work than simply finding it hard.
To love one another, as Jesus commanded, goes against our very
nature. We may be reluctant to admit
it, but we are self-centered. All of us
want to be the center of the universe.
We all want to have the sun, the moon and the stars--not to mention
other people--revolve around us. That
is what Scripture means when it talks about Sin, with a capital “S.” And loving runs counter to
self-centeredness.
Take Lisa and John for
example. They were young marrieds. They loved each other. They enjoyed the intimacy that marriage
entailed. They valued the stability it
added to their lives. But only months
into their life together, they discovered themselves at odds. John had always enjoyed going out with the
guys. As a bachelor, he would go out
one or two nights a week drinking and dancing.
He had done so for years. But he
no longer felt free to go and do as he had done, and he resented it. He found his love for Lisa
constraining. It impinged on his
self-centered desires.
Love is like that. To love people goes against our nature. It costs us. Sometimes the costs are emotional. We have to give up our grief or anger or prejudices, our desire
to be free or in control. Sometimes the
costs are physical. Loving a child with
special needs or a parent beset by disease can be physically challenging, even
exhausting. Too often the caregiver
ends up needing care. Loving can also
cost us our dreams. How many women have
abandoned their careers, their vocational hopes, because they loved their
family? How many men died in war because
of their love of comrades or country?
To love is not
“natural.” It doesn’t just happen. It doesn’t just naturally swell up in our
hearts and ooze out our pores. Loving runs counter to our self-centeredness.
And that makes it hard to really, truly love.
Yet Jesus tells us--no, he commands
us--to love? How, if love runs counter
to who we are, can we do that? How is
it possible to “love one another” as Jesus commanded?
The key comes in the rest
of what Jesus says. He doesn’t just
say, “Love one another.” He says, “Love
one another as I have loved you.” Bible
scholar George Beasley-Murray says that those five words--“as I have loved
you”--are not incidental. They are
extremely important. They are important
not just because they reveal the standard of love, the love Jesus expressed to
others; and not just because they suggest our motive for loving, which is
faithfulness to our Lord. No, they are
important because they hint at the source of love, at what makes love
possible. And that, Beasley-Murray
says, is “the redemptive love [of Christ] that frees us from restrictive love
of self.” In other words, because Jesus
laid down his life for his friends--us--because Jesus died for our sins and
rose again on the third day, because Jesus redeemed us from Sin, we are no
longer slaves to self-centeredness. We
no longer need to be the center of the world because we no longer need to
protect ourselves for this life or the next.
Because of Jesus’ death and resurrection, we are re-created as people
capable of loving, people willing and able to pay the price of love.
That is not just a
concept. It has been our reality.
As many of you have no
doubt gathered, Jesus’ earliest followers fascinate me. They were a mixed bag of
characters—fishermen and tax collectors, zealots and prostitutes. While they were all Jews, they were not a
homogeneous crowd. You had, for
example, Peter as their leader. He was
often impetuous, quick tempered, even given to brooding. James and John, whether driven by their mother
or their own desires, were known to jockey for position next to Jesus--a fact
that angered the rest. Then there was
John, the so-called Beloved Disciples.
He was clearly Jesus’ favorite—a fact the others knew and in all
likelihood resented. Of course, there
was Mary and Martha. One preferred the
contemplative life. She liked to think
and pray. When Jesus came to her house
she would listen to his every word. The
other preferred the active life. Busy
hands marked her days. When Jesus
visited she was a whirlwind of activity, making sure that all was as it was
supposed to be. To say that the sisters
were different would be an understatement.
They were opposites. They had
their moments, moments in which they were more than a little estranged. When these people gathered around Jesus they
brought all their baggage with them--their egos, their personalities, their
quirks. They brought with them all of
their unlovable self-centeredness.
Yet they not only learned
to tolerate each other, they came to love one another. They came to a place where they could set
aside their agendas for God’s agenda, their interests for the interests of
others, even their possessions for the well-being of all. These men and women came to a point where
they gave all that they were for Christ and each other.
What changed them? “The redemptive love of Christ [freed them]
from restrictive love of self.” They
understood that Jesus died to reconcile them to God. Through his life, death and resurrection, he set them free from
sin, redeemed them from self-centeredness, made it possible for them to
surrender their place at the center of the world and truly love, really love,
one another--and all who came to join them.
Of course, it was
hard. After all, sin runs deep. But they loved as Jesus loved them.
In one of his books, Tony
Campolo tells of a church in Trenton, New Jersey. It was a staid old church, filled with middle and upper-middle
class Anglos who drove from the suburbs each Sunday. In a weak moment, they agreed to host a community center, a place
for the low-income African-American children of that neighborhood to come after
school and during the summer to get away from the gangs and drugs that marked
their streets. But kids are kids. They ran the halls. They made noise. They left messes here and there.
Before long some of the leaders decided enough was enough. They called in the young man in charge of
the program, told him they were tired of the problems caused by “those kids”
and that they were going to ask the members to close the center. A week later, after worship, the
congregation met. The proposal was
made, a vote called, and in this congregation only the three leaders voted to
close the center’s doors. The rest said
no. Oh, they knew the problems. They knew the trouble the center
entailed. They didn’t necessarily like
what some of the kids did. But they
knew how to love as Jesus loved. They
knew that because of the redemptive love of Christ they were free from the
self-centeredness that that made their building, their race, their culture
idols. They knew that because they were
loved by Jesus they could love the children Jesus loved.
When we look around the sanctuary we
are likely to see people we find hard to love.
God knows that when we leave here, when we go to work or walk our
neighborhoods, we will see folks like that, folks who even share our
faith. But we can love them--not
because Jesus commanded us to, not because he taught us to, not because we, on
our own strength, want to. We can love
them because Jesus Christ loved us, redeemed us, and set us free from the
self-centeredness that makes love impossible.
We can love because our Lord showed us love is not just a concept, it is
the way of God.