Abiding in God’s Love

Sermon preached Sunday, May 5, 2024, the Sixth Sunday of Easter, at Lutheran Church of Our Saviour in North Chesterfield, VA. 

This morning we hear again from Jesus’ final meal with his disciples. In this passage, which is also usually read on Maundy Thursday, Jesus tells his disciples that the most important commandment he can give them is to love…and not only love, but to abide in the love God has already given them.

“As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. ¹⁰If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love…” (John 15:9-10a)

 

Abide. That’s an interesting word choice. It can mean a lot of different things. We might say that we “abide by the rules” or that we “can’t abide rudeness.” It can also mean to remain with or to dwell or to endure. It’s one of those incredibly ambiguous terms that can include several larger themes, and even trying to go back to the original language doesn’t help us out much—in Greek, it still covers the same variety of meanings.

I think it is with this intentional ambiguity that Jesus tells his disciples—and tells us—to abide in his love.

All too often, we think of love as a noun—as a feeling. Something that makes us feel warm and comfortable and joyful. We think of love as something that we sense, or something that is so ephemeral or intangible that it simply is or isn’t. We either love someone or we don’t—we either “feel love” for something or we don’t.

But love is much, much more than that. I think we do much better when we think of love as a verb—as a term of action.

One of the most popular readings at weddings is from First Corinthians, chapter 13. I think that all but one or two of the weddings I’ve officiated and been to have included this piece of scripture, as did my own! Most of you could probably recite it with me, but in case you need a reminder, here’s what it says:

^“4Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant⁵or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;⁶it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. ⁷It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” (1 Corinthians 13:4-7)

When I preach on this text at weddings, I use it to remind people that all too often “love” becomes simply a word without a whole lot of meaning. Love can’t exist in a vacuum. You can say you love someone or something all you want, but if your actions don’t witness to it, your love is empty.

I illustrate this point by re-reading those four verses, but adding in the word “behavior.”

“Loving behavior is patient; loving behavior is kind; loving behavior is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. Loving behavior does not insist on its own way; loving behavior is not irritable or resentful; loving behavior does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. Loving behavior bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

We love one another through what we do and what we say, simply saying that we love our neighbor doesn’t mean much if we aren’t living out that love.

When Jesus says, “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you,” this sense of action is what we should think of. After all, when we talk about God’s love for us and how that love has been shown, we talk about God’s actions.

We talk about God’s love through creation, how God brought order in the universe out of chaos, how God designed an ecosystem to sustain such abundant life, and how God created us in the divine image and called us good, and how we see God’s love in every detail and in every step.

We talk about God’s love through the stories of our Israelite ancestors: God leading them out of Egypt and slavery, God providing manna and water for them in the wilderness, God healing people, God lifting up and calling prophets, and God finding a way for people when it looked like all hope was lost.

And, of course, we talk about God’s love through the cross and through every part of God’s incarnation through Jesus Christ: taking on our flesh and living among us, suffering death at our hands, and rising to share with us new life—all because God loves us and wants to be reconciled with us in spite of our sinfulness.

And these are just the things that God has done collectively for our world and for all of humanity. I know that many of us have our own stories of what we have seen God do in our own lives, moments when we have seen healing or restoration or peace.

Without these actions, would we know God’s love? Without the cross, would we have evidence enough that God actually cares for us, actually loves us? Everything God does is for us, for the creation God so lovingly formed.

Jesus says, “love one another as I have loved you.”

If that is our calling, if that is the last and greatest commandment Jesus gives us, then the love Jesus shows—the actions of Jesus can give us some guidance.

Jesus showed love by healing the sick, like when he came upon the paralytic by the pool of Siloam who kept missing his chance to enter the water and be healed, until Jesus came along and made him walk.

Jesus showed love by engaging with people no one else would, like the Samaritan Woman who Jesus meets at a well when anyone else might have steadfastly ignored her.

Jesus showed love by feeding people who were hungry, like when he took five loaves of bread and two fish and feed an enormous crowd with twelve baskets-full to spare.

Jesus comforted the afraid, like when his disciples were terrified on a boat in the sea and Jesus walked across the water to be with them.

Jesus showed love by standing up for people facing unjust circumstances, like the woman caught in adultery who had no chance to defend herself and whose punishment was disproportionate to her accused crime.

Jesus showed love by dying for us and, in his own words, drawing all people to himself.

Jesus says, “love one another as I have loved you.” This is how we do it, through the example God has given us. Healing, comforting, restoring, feeding, building relationships, sheltering, helping, being compassionate, becoming vulnerable for the sake of others…these are the actions of love.

When we do these things, we are already abiding in God’s love: living in it, dwelling in it, surrounded by it, and sustained by it—Love that found it’s home in us through our baptism.

When you were baptized, and every time you have affirmed your baptism since then, promises have been made. You might remember some of them: to live among God’s faithful people, to come to worship, to read scripture, and to pray—but do you remember what else is promised?

In our rite of baptism we ask if you promise to do these things, “so that you may learn to trust God, proclaim Christ through word and deed, care for others and the world God made, and work for justice and peace.”

It’s there, from the beginning, from the entry rite of our faith. From the day we enter the community of faith, we commit ourselves to the work of love.

Every week. Every day. Abiding in the abundant love of God.

Amen.

Love is the Best Cliche

Sermon preached Sunday, May 19, 2019, the Fifth Sunday of Easter, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA.

When it comes to talking about love and God, we end up repeating a lot of pretty cliché statements. “Where love is, there God is also.” (Ghandi) “God loves you more in a moment than anyone could in a lifetime.” “[God] loved us not because we were lovable but because [God] is love.” (C.S. Lewis) “Where sin runs deep [God’s] love runs deeper.” I mean, these are the type of quotes and sayings that get written up in pretty fonts on pretty backgrounds and shared across Facebook and Instagram. They’re all over the place and never terribly original.

And there’s good reason for it! They might indeed be cliché, but they are also representative of a deep truth. There is a reason why we have so much to say about God and love. It’s because no other word describes God’s relationship with humanity better than “love.” Love is connected to every other thing: God’s grace, forgiveness, creative work, renewal, abundant life, welcome…all of it comes out of a root of love. God is love.

Scripture repeats it over and over again. In the First Letter of John, we read, “Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.” (1 John 4:7) Psalm 36 declares “Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens, your faithfulness to the clouds.” (36:5) Even in the Gospel of John there are a number of verses that remind us of the vastness of God’s love. There’s of course the classic verse, John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” Later in the Gospel, Jesus will tell his disciples, “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.” (15:9)

And then there’s Jesus words we heard this morning in our Gospel text: “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” (John 13:34) This verse is truly remarkable. At face value, it seems simple enough, meaningful enough, but when we realize the context it’s in…there’s a whole other level. These verses happen during the last supper. Jesus is in the Upper Room with his disciples, preparing them for the future, a future when he will no longer be with them. Jesus has already called out Judas’ betrayal and forewarned of Peter’s denial. Judas left the room in disgrace and Peter’s rejection is just around the corner…and yet this is what Jesus chooses to say. Instead of recriminations or condemnations, Jesus calls his followers “little children” and reminds them of how much they are loved.

This love is shown in so many ways by God throughout scripture and throughout our history. We were created in the image of God. God made promises to humanity to be with us for all time. God brought the Israelites out from Egypt. God led those people into the promised land. The exiled people were brought back to Israel from Babylon. And, in the person of Christ, the love of God is made known through the incarnation and the crucifixion, two undeniable and selfless acts of love.

It doesn’t stop there, of course. The early church struggled to define and share the love of God with Jews and Gentiles alike. The reading from Acts reminds us that divisions between believers were stark and deep-seated. If a Gentile, someone who was not Jewish and did not follow Jewish law, came to believe in Jesus, did they need to become Jewish? These questions were causing people to draw lines in the sand over who was in and who was out. Eat the wrong food? You’re out. Not circumcised? You’re out.

But then Peter has this vision. Peter sees all food being declared clean by God. He then remembers the words of Jesus about how baptism makes people one, not what people eat or their circumcision status. In essence, it is a discussion about love. In this time of discernment about the church’s future, it came back to God’s love and Peter realized that God’s love doesn’t ever mean people are excluded. God’s love is open to all, Jew or Greek.

The love of God is revealed again in our text from Revelation. I’m not going to break it down. I’m not even going to really comment on it. I’m just going to read it again and invite you to hear it as a message of pure love.

¹I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. ²And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. ³And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,
“See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them;
they will be his peoples,
and God himself will be with them;
⁴he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.”
⁵And the one who was seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.” ⁶Then he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.” (Revelation 21:1-6)

Do you hear it? Did you hear the promise of love seeping out of every verse?

Thanks to Facebook and it’s features that shares memories from previous years, I was reminded of a trip I took several years ago. As part of my First Call Theological Education, I spent a few days in Sacramento as the first half of a two-part series on how to be the public church. We gathered to discuss how our faith calls us to be public witnesses in the world and how, sometimes, that means engaging in politics. It’s not about declaring ourselves as a Democrat or a Republican. As it is, our tax-exempt status as a church could be threatened if I were to get up in the pulpit and tell you which person or bill to vote for. However, this doesn’t mean that we should ignore politics or act like they don’t impact us. Instead, we should look to our faith, look to our scriptures, look to our God and open ourselves up to discerning what we are being called to do.

I mention all of this because most of our time at California’s capital building was spent talking with individuals: a legislator, a chief of staff, an aide, California’s Secretary of Food and Agriculture (a lifelong Lutheran!) and the Bishop of that synod, Mark Holmerud. These conversations were about people’s work and people’s passions…but also about people’s faith. It was fascinating to hear these people explicitly name how their faith informs their work and the policies they pursue. Their faith leads them to work towards conservation, an end to homelessness, food for the hungry, quality education. It’s their faith that leads them to love: love God and love their neighbor.

That’s what love looks like when it is lived out, at least in part. It looks like advocating for all whose voices are silenced. It looks like sharing resources so that all will have enough. It looks like showing mercy and compassion in the face of fear. It looks like welcome an invitation instead of exclusion. It looks like taking risks for the sake of God’s good news. Not of it is easy, but it is what we are called to do. It is what Jesus calls us to do: “I give you a new commandment,” Christ said, “that you love one another.”

We never do this work alone. We never love alone. God is always with us, working alongside us. In the words of Bishop Holmerud, “We do things as we are loved by God—not before we are loved by God.” God already loves us and that love fills us and flows through us as we love others.

God. Is. Love. It’s the best kind of cliché.

Amen.

The Reign of God

Sermon preached Sunday, July 17th, 2018, the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. Audio can be found here.

What do you imagine when you think of the “Kingdom of God”?

I’d imagine that something slightly different comes to mind for all of us…but it’s something I think anyone who’s read the Bible thinks about. After all, it comes up with some regularity in the New Testament. Jesus frequently refers to it, especially in the Gospels of Mark and Matthew.

Chances are, I’ve mentioned this in the past, but I actually don’t prefer “kingdom” as the best translation from the Greek. “Kingdom” usually makes us think of a physical place, a defined location. The word basileia, however, can also be translated as “reign.”

Think about what changes if you hear “reign of God” versus “kingdom of God.” [Beat] “Reign” is more of a way of living, a way of being, a way of organizing the world.

Today, we hear Jesus tell parables about the reign of God. Want to hear it again?

³⁰He also said, “With what can we compare the reign of God, or what parable will we use for it? ³¹It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; ³²yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.” (Mark 4:30-32)

How many of you have heard this parable before? How many of you have heard it more times than you can count? How many of you tend to retell it by talking about having “faith the size of a mustard seed?”

If you’re thinking, “I have,” you’re not alone. This parable is most often cited when someone is experiencing a crisis of faith, or if resources are limited in a faith community. “You know what the Bible says, all you need is a small amount of faith, a mustard seed.” Sound familiar?

But does Jesus say anything about faith? No, he asks, “With what can we compare the reign of God?” The reign of God is like a mustard seed, not a person’s faith.

To be honest, I’m not even sure I fully realized the implications of this distinction until relatively recently.

What does it mean that the reign of God is like a mustard seed, “which, when sown upon the ground is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs…?”

I think it means that we might not always realize it when the reign of God is at work, or when the reign of God might be breaking in, sowing a seed that’s just waiting to sprout and grow.

Like many of you, this week I was inundated with pictures and reports of children being housed in reprehensible conditions and being separated from their parents. This is not the reign of God, even if a verse of scripture taken out of context is used to justify it. In fact, if one continues reading in that very same chapter of Romans, one finds this passage:

“Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law. ⁹The commandments, ‘You shall not commit adultery; You shall not murder; You shall not steal; You shall not covet’; and any other commandment, are summed up in this word, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ ¹⁰Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.” (Romans 13:8-10)

“Love your neighbor as yourself.” “Love does not wrong to a neighbor.”

To be honest, I’m not sure I can come up with a much better description of the what the reign of God looks like, except that it is an environment and a culture and a community in which everyone loves and everyone is loved—a setting in which all come together to build one another up.

I don’t know much for certain, but I know that, I know it deep within my soul. And, as fate would have it, I caught a few glimpses of it this week.

As most of you know, I spent the past week at Camp Nawakwa with eighty middle- and early-high schoolers for our area’s All Saint’s Confirmation Camp. It was an excellent week with an excellent group of kids and, as always, I was amazed at the seeds God is sowing in our midst—mustard seeds, you might say.

I glimpsed the reign of God at the low ropes course. Smaller groups of campers would have to find ways to work together to complete tasks and overcome obstacles. They learned to talk to each other and, more importantly, they learned to listen to each other. The drew upon each other’s strengthens and supported each other in their weaknesses. They realized that they only succeeded if they all succeeded.

I glimpsed the reign of God when I took our older campers on a field trip to a local farm. The owner and his family displayed remarkable hospitality as they showed us around their orchard and vegetable patch. The owner reminded us of the intricacies and wonder of God’s creation as he explained the process of planting and caring for this tender produce. He told us about the joy he feels being able to feed the people in his community. We were embraced and even fed by these people, as they pulled last year’s apples out of cold storage and let us feast on the still delicious fruit.

And, perhaps most vividly, I glimpsed the reign of God on Friday morning when we held our all-camp activity. Our theme this year was hunger, so we decided to involve the kids in a large food packing event. After breakfast on Friday, a couple showed up from a local organization in a van loaded with supplies. While the campers waited outside, the pastors, youth leaders and camp staff quickly set up seven tables as assembly lines to put together macaroni and cheese meals for hungry people.

One by one, the campers filed in with hairnets on their heads, aprons on, and hands freshly sanitized. As they took their spots at the tables, we explained the process of how to build the meal kits. One person for each stage. Everyone had a role, and everyone needed everyone else.

Within minutes, the music kicked on and the room was buzzing with activity. These kids dove in, working quickly and yet very conscientiously. The organizers of this event had let us know earlier that the meals we were currently putting together would be going to Puerto Rico, a place still reeling from last year’s hurricane and a place where 11,000 people are still without power, seven months later. It was this news that spurred all of us into action. It was the knowledge that our siblings, that fellow children of God were suffering, and we could do something to maybe make life a tiny bit better, to possibly keep even one person from going hungry.

We chatted and laughed. We danced and sang along to Queen, Abba, and Disney songs. And we worked. Bag after bag was filled and sealed. Box after box was taped up. And we cheered loudly with every announcement of a bench mark: “One thousand meals done!” “Two thousand meals done!” “Three thousand!” “Four thousand!”

Anyone want to guess how many meals we packed? Eighteen thousand. In a little over an hour!

After lunch, we had a chance to split up into our congregation groups and talk about our highs and lows for the week. When we leaders talked about it later, we discovered that almost all of our kids listed the meal packing event as a major high.

It wasn’t just the process: scooping macaroni through a funnel isn’t all that exciting. It wasn’t just the music, although I’ll never forget singing songs from Moana with a table full of twelve-year-old boys. It was the knowledge that they were making a difference, that they were helping people—that they were able to be the hands and feet of God in service to other people.

The reign of God is like a field trip to a farm. The reign of God is like a low ropes course. The reign of God is like a meal packing event.

The reign of God is like anything that builds relationships and expands understandings and, most of all, expresses love to one another.

The reign of God is love.

Amen.

Abiding in Active Love

Sermon preached Sunday, May 6, 2018, the Sixth Sunday of Easter, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. Audio can be found here.

This morning we hear again from Jesus’ final meal with his disciples. In this passage, which is also usually read on Maundy Thursday, Jesus tells his disciples that the most important commandment he can give them is to love…and not only love, but to abide in the love God has already given them. As always, we know that these words were spoken to the first disciples, but we understand them as still being for us as well.

“As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. ¹⁰If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love…” (John 15:9-10a)

Abide. That’s an interesting word choice. It can mean a lot of different things. We might say that we “abide by the rules” or that we “can’t abide rudeness.” It can also mean to remain with or to dwell or to endure. It’s one of those incredibly ambiguous terms that can include several larger themes, and even trying to go back to the original language doesn’t help us out much—in Greek, it still covers the same variety of meanings.

I think it is with this intentional ambiguity that Jesus tells his disciples—and tells us—to abide in his love.

All too often, we think of love as a noun—as a feeling. Something that makes us feel warm and comfortable and joyful. We think of love as something that we sense, or something that is so ephemeral or intangible that it simply is or isn’t. We either love someone or we don’t—we either “feel love” for something or we don’t.

But love is much, much more than that. I think we do much better when we think of love as a verb—as a term of action.

One of the most popular readings at weddings is from First Corinthians, chapter 13. I think that all but one or two of the weddings I’ve officiated and been to have included this piece of scripture, as did my own! Most of you could probably recite it with me, but in case you need a reminder, here’s what it says:

^“4Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant⁵or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;⁶it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. ⁷It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” (1 Corinthians 13:4-7)

When I preach on this text at weddings, I use it to remind people that all too often “love” becomes simply a word without a whole lot of meaning. Love can’t exist in a vacuum. You can say you love someone or something all you want, but if your actions don’t witness to it, your love is empty.

I illustrate this point by re-reading those four verses, but adding in the word “behavior.”

“Loving behavior is patient; loving behavior is kind; loving behavior is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. Loving behavior does not insist on its own way; loving behavior is not irritable or resentful; loving behavior does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. Loving behavior bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

We love one another through what we do and what we say, simply saying that we love our neighbor doesn’t mean much if we aren’t living out that love.

When Jesus says, “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you,” this sense of action is what we should think of. After all, when we talk about God’s love for us and how that love has been shown, we talk about God’s actions.

We talk about God’s love through creation, how God brought order in the universe out of chaos, how God designed an ecosystem to sustain such abundant life, and how God created us in the divine image and called us good, and how we see God’s love in every detail and in every step.

We talk about God’s love through the stories of our Israelite ancestors: God leading them out of Egypt and slavery, God providing manna and water for them in the wilderness, God healing people, God lifting up and calling prophets, and God finding a way for people when it looked like all hope was lost.

And, of course, we talk about God’s love through every part of God’s incarnation through Jesus Christ: taking on our flesh and living among us, suffering death at our hands, and rising to share with us new life.

And these are just the things that God has done collectively for our world and for all of humanity. I know that many of us have our own stories of what we have seen God do in our own lives, moments when we have seen healing or restoration or peace.

Without these actions, would we know God’s love? Would we ever believe that God actually cares for us, actually loves us? Everything God does is for us, for the creation God so lovingly formed.

Jesus says, “love one another as I have loved you.”

If that is our calling, if that is the last and greatest commandment Jesus gives us, then the love Jesus shows—the actions of Jesus can give us some guidance.

Jesus showed love by healing the sick, like when he came upon the paralytic by the pool of Siloam who kept missing his chance to enter the water and be healed, until Jesus came along and made him walk.

Jesus showed love by engaging with people no one else would, like the Samaritan Woman who Jesus meets at a well when anyone else might have steadfastly ignored her.

Jesus showed love by feeding people who were hungry, like when he took five loaves of bread and two fish and feed an enormous crowd with twelve baskets-full to spare.

Jesus comforted the afraid, like when his disciples were terrified on a boat in the sea and Jesus walked across the water to be with them.

Jesus showed love by standing up for people facing unjust circumstances, like the woman caught in adultery who had no chance to defend herself and whose punishment was disproportionate to her accused crime.

Jesus showed love by dying for us and, in his own words, drawing all people to himself.

Jesus says, “love one another as I have loved you.” This is how we do it, through the example God has given us. Healing, comforting, restoring, feeding, building relationships, sheltering, helping, being compassionate…these are the actions of love.

When we do these things, we are already abiding in God’s love: living in it, dwelling in it, surrounded by it, and sustained by it—Love that found it’s home in us through our baptism.

When you were baptized, and every time you have affirmed your baptism since then, promises have been made. You might remember some of them: to live among God’s faithful people, to come to worship, to read scripture, and to pray—but do you remember what else is promised?

In our rite of baptism we ask if you promise to do these things, “so that you may learn to trust God, proclaim Christ through word and deed, care for others and the world God made, and work for justice and peace.”

It’s there, from the beginning, from the entry rite of our faith. From the day we enter the community of faith, we commit ourselves to the work of love.

Every week. Every day. Abiding in the abundant love of God.

Amen.