Why Are You Standing There??

Ascension Sunday

Acts 1:1-11

Last week we ended our discussion with Jesus’ statement from John’s gospel. I won’t quote all of it, but toward the end of the passage, Jesus said: “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. You did not choose me, but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.”

I also want to remind us that a part of our discussion centered on the idea that we may have been asking the wrong question when we question the humanity of Jesus. Rather than being wrapped up in discussion about the humanity of Christ, John suggested that we ought to be concerned with the question of our obedience to the commands of God and the manner in which we live out our lives of faith.

In contemporary Christianity, just the same as in the days of Jesus and the subsequent days of the early church, we tend to ask the wrong questions. I don’t mean that in the sense that God is repelled or bothered or offended by our questions. God loves for us to ask questions. A faith which isn’t shaken up from time to time isn’t much of a faith. Faith should be a vibrant, challenging, occasionally rocky experience of the followers of Jesus. All of us experience challenges to our faith from time to time, and that’s more than okay – it’s to be expected. It’s okay to ask questions. But we tend to ask the wrong questions – in the sense that we often miss the point that God is trying to make in our lives. It’s like the old boy that asked whether he should tithe on the gross or the net of his income – he’s missed the point. God calls us to return something of what God has first given to us – and if you don’t think that God has given you all that you hold possession over at this point in time, we need to move on to the discussion about personal arrogance. By the way, the answer to the “gross or net” question is this – it depends on whether you want a “gross” blessing or a “net” blessing.

In our account from the Acts this morning, we find that the disciples had again asked the wrong question. Having seen the power of Jesus in His resurrection, and having walked with Him for 40 days following His resurrection, they asked, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”

Let me translate for you. “Jesus, is this when you’re going to overthrow these Roman invaders? Is this when you are going to give us what you’ve promised – places at your right and left hand, so that we can help you rule the universe? You know, Jesus – it’s a big universe, and you’re going to need a lot of help to rule things. Is this when we are going to get what’s coming to us, and we get to help you rule the universe – or at least our little corner of it?

Twenty centuries later, I chuckle. I chuckle to listen to the absurdity of their question. You may think that I’m being a little calloused or derogatory with what I just said – but believe me – I think that I more than fairly state the way the disciples and Israel of that day saw themselves – as the chosen of God. That absurdity continues to this day. Jesus begins the answer to their question, and years later, Paul continues to develop the theological picture that Israel was always intended to serve as a seed bed for the evangelization of the world – that the purpose of Israel – the chosenness of Israel – was not because they were some kind of special kind of folks. No, they were chosen and called to be the seed bed from which the entire world would be evangelized. They were chosen for purpose, not privilege. They were the first to be chosen.

Jesus answers their question rather straightforwardly. “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority.” “Buzzzzz!! Thanks for playing!! Wrong question – again!! This thing that I’m about to do – it isn’t about you, our your rewards or what you get out of the deal. It’s about me. And it’s about all the people that I want to touch with my message of redemption.”

We’re good at asking the wrong questions. Last week we centered our initial questions around the humanity of Christ. Wouldn’t that make things easier for us if Jesus were truly human. Bzzzzzz! Wrong question!! The question of the day wasn’t about the humanity of Christ, but about our obedience to the commands of Christ. We were asking the wrong question. Here, the disciples are asking about God’s plan to restore the kingdom to Israel – whatever that meant in their thinking. We can only imagine. But it was the wrong question. Besides, only the Father knows – Jesus says in another passage that even He didn’t know – and the Father isn’t talking about that right now. It’s up to God – it’s not our business.

“But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” Now, that’s the question. What do we do next? How can we help you out, Jesus, with whatever it is that you’re going to do next? What small, seemingly insignificant role can we play in your grand plan?

Allow me to tell the story of how this sermon evolved as an illustration of how easily we can ask the wrong question. When I first read this passage this week, I marveled again at this verse 8 – “You shall be my witnesses.” I’ll bet I’ve heard a hundred sermons on this passage over the years. Every one of them said the same thing – “You are going to figure out how to tap into my power, and then I want you to get our there and sell, sell, sell. You’re going to be my witnesses – and then later, some of you are going to be up for “witness of the year.” Several of you are going to excel to the point that you will be called into the ministry, and a few lucky few of you will be listed in the “Witnesses Hall of Fame” for all the work you are going to do. Your picture’s gonna be up there, right next to Billy Graham’s. Yes sirree, you’re gonna be something.”

I just knew that’s what this passage was saying. Just to confirm my thinking, I pulled out my greek study tools. You know that I get a little dangerous when that happens. I looked at this passage, and discovered two really interesting words. “dynamo” is the word for power. “Pow.” Power – it makes sense. Then the word for “witness” – you shall be my “witnesses” – is the word “martyr.” Wow. You and I are going to get enough power to do the work of martyrs. That’s the stuff of good sermons, now, I’ll tell you. Heaping coals of fire on their heads.

I needed confirmation, so I called my two local greek experts to have them talk to me about the voice structure of a couple of phrases in this sentence – “You shall receive power” and “you shall be my witnesses.” I just knew that these were imperative statements – something like a command. That would confirm the way I’d heard this passage preached and taught all my life. “You’re gonna get the power, and then you gotta get out there and witness, witness, witness.” Imperative. Command. Duty. Your calling.

Boy, was I wrong. My greek experts both said the same thing – this comes from the passive voice, and both are future in their orientation. That’s “greek scholar talk” for saying that the first phrase emphasizes the action of the one giving out the power, not the one receiving it, while the second phrase isn’t an imperative – a command – rather it is indicative – it indicates what things are going to look like in the future.

I thought about that for a while. I so wanted this to be a command – an imperative. But it isn’t – rather, it’s a statement of reality in the future – an indicative statement. It’s actually much stronger than a promise – it says that our very definition as “christians” will be that we will be “proclaimers of the truth.” Later in the book of Acts, Luke reminds us that it was first at Antioch that the followers of Jesus were called “christians.” Little “c.” Little Christs. It was actually first a derogatory term – “Who do these little “christs” think they are – telling His story like that. What are they – “christians?”

You and I live again in a world where the name “Christian” isn’t a term of approval. In much of our world – even in our own country – it has become a derisive term. “Who does she think she is – a “Christian.” People almost say it with a jeer as they make fun of our obedience to our testimony. They see us as something to be scorned and laughed at.

Maybe we’re making some progress.

But can you hear how my attitude drifts toward the wrong question again? This passage isn’t about the word “power” or that other word – “martyr.” The emphasis of a middle voice in the greek is usually passive. The emphasis isn’t on us – it’s on the one doing the work on us, and through us. The emphasis is on the Spirit who has been promised, and who has been given, and who will accomplish a work through us. One of my greek experts the other evening described it as a “lead pipe cinch” – its a certainty. And any time a phrase is in the future tense – “you will receive” and “you shall be” – in the greek, the emphasis is always on the future action, and not on the outcome of the action.

Well, I’m quite certain that’s more greek than you wanted to hear – and none of you are obligated to say “It’s all greek to me” on your way out the door. What I do want you to go out the door with is this – When we get our eyes too focused on ourselves, we end up asking the wrong questions. We belong to Christ. We were bought with a price – paid for with His precious blood. We’ve bought into the concept – at least to the point of trusting Jesus for our salvation. The question isn’t when Jesus is going to restore the kingdom, or when Jesus is going to return, or even when we’re going to get our heavenly rewards. The question for the moment centers on the issue of our witness, and the power that will be given to us – this Holy Spirit of God. When we receive that kind of power, serving Christ is no longer a burden. It is a privilege. And it’s not so much something we do, as it is the definition of who we are.

It turns out that the angels who showed up after Jesus was transported into the heavens asked the best question. “Why are you standing here?” We might ask the same question of ourselves, as 21st century believers. Why are we standing here? As power filled, Holy Spirit empowered people – how can we fail in fulfilling Christ’s declaration of our purpose? How can we not be witnesses? It is our purpose, and it is our very definition. We are Christ’s witnesses.

“But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."

Richard W. Dunn, PhD.

The Question on our Minds

6th Sunday of Easter

1st John 5:1-6

There has been a question on our minds this week. Every person I have run into has a common question on their minds. They might not even be able to verbalize the question – but it’s there. Here’s the question.

Just how human was Jesus?

Hollywood has tried to drop this question right in our laps. And John has an answer. Read with me again – verse 6 of our passage. “This is the One who came by water and blood, Jesus Christ, not with the water only but with the water and the blood. And the Spirit is the one that testifies, for the Spirit is the truth.”

Fully God – Fully human. That’s what they taught us in seminary – fully God, fully human. We talked about it in nearly every class I attended over in the theology school at Southwestern. We talked about it when we were sitting around the lunch table, and some even ventured to write papers on the subject. I never did – because all the talking and all the discussing never made it any clearer to me. I didn’t understand it then, and I don’t understand it now. Jesus was a one of a kind – born of water and blood, and testified to by the Spirit.

John was actually dealing with a growing problem of the day. There were those in that society that taught that Jesus wasn’t fully human – that He could do all that He did because He was God – it was His divinity that allowed Him to live a perfect life. They were known as Gnostics. There were a couple of variants to their thinking – one group of them thought that Jesus was born of a virgin, but because His heavenly Father was God, He was never really fully human – more like a God in human flesh. The other group was convinced that He was human just like any of the rest of us, but at His baptism, the Spirit of God came upon Him, and at that point He became something more like a God – more like a human with divine attributes. Either way, the Gnostics couldn’t conceive that Jesus could be fully God and fully human at the same time – and so they chose not to believe it. I go with them about half way – I can’t conceive it – but the difference for me is that I choose to believe it, whether I understand it or not.

Believe me; I’ve tried to understand it. I think a lot of people try – and whenever I get in a conversation with some theolog who thinks they know how to explain it, I can always find some wrinkle they haven’t thought of, and eventually they just end up saying, “Well, that’s the way I see it.”

For me, I’m torn. If Jesus wasn’t fully human – if He did the things that He did – and did them with perfection – only because He was God, then I have a problem with God asking me to live a perfect life. I have a problem with a God that hasn’t experienced every kind of temptation that I’ve known asking me to live up to something that He didn’t have to do – as a full human. I have a problem with a God like that asking me to live life perfectly when the life stuff comes around – like when I lose a job, or when I’m blessed with a mentally handicapped son. A lot of us can say offer our personal version of that same argument. As far as we know, Jesus never experienced divorce. As far as we know, Jesus never developed cancer. As far as we know, Jesus never got old enough to walk into a room and forget what He went in there for. We could use our own personal version of the argument in a lot of different ways, and we just might be justified – if Jesus wasn’t fully human.

On the other hand, if Jesus was fully human – well, that doesn’t make things easier for me. If He experienced every kind of temptation known to man, but without sin – well, that doesn’t make my puny, pitiful, sin-stained life any easier. I try, and I try, but I haven’t figured out how to life the perfect life. I continue to sin. I continue to fail. I continue to miss the mark and disappoint people and disappoint myself and trip over my own shoestrings. It doesn’t make it any easier for me if Jesus was fully human. There’s a side of me that hopes that the only reason He could do what He did was because He was God.

Fully God, fully human. One of a kind. I don’t understand it – there’s not another example. He’s the prototype, and they threw away the mold. Only one Jesus. One of a kind. Fully God, fully human.

That’s the question that’s on our minds – just how human was Jesus. But it’s the wrong question. We can ask that question till we’re blue in the face, and in the long run, it doesn’t make any difference. Our only two options, really, are to say, “It’s not fair,” or to throw up our hands in despair at our personal failures. Those are the only two options. In the long run, it doesn’t make any difference. And, it diverts us from our more important obligations.

John is trying to wrap things up by the time he gets to chapter 5. But he makes one last stab at reminding us of the things God thinks are important when it comes to our faith. Three things – believe, obey, and love. Those are the three tests of the Christian life. John says it just that forcefully – that these are like the barometer of our Christianity. This time around, John throws them at us in combinations.

“Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God, and everyone who loves the parent loves the child.” Here John mixes the theological test with the social test. We must believe that Jesus is the Christ, and we love the children of God. Pretty simple. Next verse. “By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments.” This is the mix of the social test and the moral test. We must love the children of God, and the way that we do so is by obeying the commandments. One more time. Verses 3 and 4 – “For the love of God is this, that we obey his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome, for whatever is born of God conquers the world. And this is the victory that conquers the world, our faith.” A mix of the moral test and the theological test. We obey the commandments, and in doing so we prove our faith.

You remember that other Ron Howard, Tom Hanks movie – Apollo 13. Remember the line from it that got everyone’s attention – “Houston, we have a problem.” Well, John does something like that with these three tests. He would liken the three tests to a three legged stool. If any one of the three legs isn’t there, well, we have a problem. Here’s the way he would say it. If you believe that Jesus is the Son of God, and you keep the commandments, but you fail to love God’s other children, well then, we have a problem. Or, if you believe that Jesus is the Son of God, and you love all God’s children, but you aren’t interested in keeping God’s commandments, well, we have a problem. And again – if you keep the commandments, and you love the brothers and sisters, but you don’t believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God, well then, we have a problem.

Believe, obey, love. Three tests.

This week, I thought of another way to look at each of these three tests. Jesus offers us life. That’s the message of Easter, really. About all He asks of us in return are three simple things, according to his good friend John. First, He wants us to believe Him. He wants us to believe Him when He says that He is “the Way, the Truth, and the Life, and that no man comes to the Father except through Him.” He wants us to trust what He’s already done for us as though it’s our only option.

Do you remember the story of the little guy who fell off the cliff and caught a branch sticking out of the sheer wall on his way down? He’s hanging there, and he decides to call out to God. “God, can you help me?!?!?!” God calls back – “Let go!!” And the little guys hollers back, “Is there anybody else up there???” We have a tendency to trust Jesus, and then keep looking for a better deal, or more truth, or an easier way. Jesus wants us to trust Him like there isn’t any other option.

Second – Jesus wants us to keep the commandments. And not like the guy who came up and asked him, “Which is the greatest commandment?” as though he was looking for the cliff notes on obedience. Jesus wants us to keep all of the commandments – and to do so like it was partly our idea to come up with each and every one of them. John says that they aren’t a burden – and if they feel like a burden to you, well, maybe you’re going about keeping them all wrong. Maybe you need to see the beauty in the commandments – they keep us out of trouble, and if we keep them, we’re not always trying to climb out of a hole. And when we think that we’ve got ‘em licked, we mess up, and they remind us just how much we need Jesus in the first place. It’s a great system, really.

Third thing – Jesus wants us to love each other. And again, if you’re like the guy who asked the question about this “who’s my neighbor” stuff, you’re probably going about it all wrong. Jesus died for the whole world, so that’s the answer – they’re all your neighbors. Muslims and Jews and Baptists and Methodists and Catholics and pagans and Democrats and Republicans and women and men and children and bosses and employees and moms and dads and brothers and sisters – they’re all your neighbors. You don’t have to ask again – just love ‘em all, and love ‘em like you’d like to be loved in return.

Well, that’s what John had to say. Jesus said it this way. “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete. This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. You did not choose me, but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.”

Amen.

Richard W. Dunn, PhD.

Maturing Faith: In the Spirit

5th Sunday of Easter

1st John 4:7-21; John 15:1-8

Did you see the piece on the news Thursday night about Religiously Transmitted Diseases? Pastor Ed Gungor from Tulsa has written a new book (of course) in which he addresses the growing apathy in churches. His book is a somewhat tongue-in-cheek look at certain spiritual behaviors among Christian people – he has assigned interesting names to these RTDs, such as “individualitis” – the need to try to go it alone with just Jesus and me; “affluenza” – a faith life that measures success only if you have a Ferrari; and “inferioritis” – the tendency for Christians to feel that nothing they have to offer to God is good enough. Pastor Gungor makes one observation that I think is highly accurate – most of these are diseases of the spirit – spiritual diseases.

Also this week, I read Matthew Fox’s new book entitled A New Reformation. I want to share with you what he said in the introduction, page 7 – “Present-day Protestantism suffers from apathy, or what our ancestors called acedia, a lack of energy or a kind of spiritual sloth. Descriptors I would apply to today’s Protestantism are: anemic, tired, boring, incurious, unadventurous, emasculated, compromising, confused, depressed (a recent study found that about 80 percent of the pastors in one liberal branch of Protestantism are taking antidepressant drugs!), unmystical, lost, irrelevant, preoccupied with trivia, uninspired, one-dimensional, and burned out. All the issues that these adjectives imply are in fact spiritual in nature. Protestantism often lacks a profound spirituality (the word spirituality was rarely in its theological vocabulary until very recently) and this lack is beginning to show. What has happened to the protest in Protestantism? What will it take to bring it back? Protestantism has a proud and profound intellectual heritage, yet it is allowing itself to be mowed over by anti-intellectual fundamentalism, which has hijacked Jesus, Christ, and Christianity as a whole.”[1]

Two weeks ago, I attended the Cooperating Baptist Fellowship of Oklahoma General Assembly meeting in Stillwater, and our friend Daniel Vestal spoke. Daniel is always good in the pulpit, but I sensed in him a passion that I’ve not seen before. One thing he said took me back, and I quote – “There is a spiritual awakening happening in our world today, the likes of which has not been seen since the Great Awakening – and the sad truth is that most of us in our churches don’t even know that its going on . . .”

You and I would have to admit that we are experiencing something of a spiritual lethargy – even in our own congregation. If it were merely a case of lack of interest in the usual, same-o-same-o activities associated with church, I could probably write it off to something that will pass – kind of like a spiritual indigestion. But I am starting to hear from people – Christians, mind you – who say that they have less and less interest in the things of God, and less and less time for God at all. We are experiencing a spiritual malaise like I haven’t seen in my 49 years, and it concerns me – it ought to concern all of us.

John says this – “By this we know that we abide in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit.” God’s Spirit – abiding in each of us. I have a hard time conceiving that the presence of the Spirit of God “takes a break” from time to time in our lives – or worse, that the Spirit of God would lose interest in the things of God. The testimony of the scriptures is quite clear – God expects that we mature in our faith, and that one evidence of that maturation is growth in the way in which the Spirit of God has movement in our lives.

You might say, “Pastor, you overstate the case. We are ecclesiological ‘moderates’ – and moderates don’t get excited about much of anything.” You are right about that – moderates don’t tend to get very excited about spiritual passions – or at least you can’t tell if they’re excited. But I don’t speak so much of excitement as I do “passion.” Did you hear the descriptors Matthew Fox used - incurious, unadventurous, irrelevant, uninspired, one-dimensional, and burned out??? If I were to attempt to diagnose our dis-ease, I might ask us some questions? #1 – Do you know how to identify the working of the Spirit in your life? #2 – How has that changed over the years you have been a Christian? And #3 – Does the Spirit work in your life more or less than in years past?

Your pastor can testify to my own life. I can say that in certain circumstances, I am quite aware – able to notice – when the Spirit is working in my life. I can give you a rather specific example – I have learned that when you cross my mind during the course of the day that I am to instantly pray for you – whether I know of your personal circumstances at the moment or not – and that if the prompting of the Spirit persists, that I am to pick up the phone and give you a call. Rarely is such a phone call unappreciated or not of immediate value on the part of the person on my mind. I’ve come to feel that about the worst that can happen is that I interrupt you at an inconvenient time, and you are always forgiving about that.

I can go on to address the second question in that sequence – “How has my recognition of the work of the Spirit in my life changed over the years?” I can answer that question in the positive and the negative. If I posture myself correctly for a day, I am prepared for the prompting of the Spirit. It doesn’t always come, but I am prepared. If I fail to posture myself correctly – fail to make adequate mental preparation – then the promptings of the Spirit are something of a surprise, and I don’t always respond adequately, and certainly not promptly.

And that third question – “Does the Spirit work in my life more or less than in years past? – I almost hate to answer that question. The sad part about living in human, fleshly, sin-tainted bodies (with minds to match) is that I am more able to resist the promptings of the Spirit – I have grown more adept, more sly in my abilities to avoid, delay, or otherwise disobey the urgings of the Spirit.

Here’s where you get the Mother’s Day part of the message – some of you thought I’d forgot, didn’t you? Mothers remind me of the Spirit – at least they are adept at nagging – I mean, urging us – like the Spirit does. But my third example is no more clearly seen than in the case of mothers – as we mature, we all seem to grow more proficient at avoiding, shunning, or otherwise overlooking suggestions from mom. By the time we arrive at adulthood, perhaps the only influence our mothers have over us is that which they generated many years ago – for we have long since taken to our own ways, and the making of our own decisions. Advice from mom is rarely solicited, and perhaps even less frequently applied. Not because moms are not valuable – we just learn to assert our independence.

Ah, there’s the rub. Independence. I suspect that American Christians have more trouble with what I’m about to say than Christians in other parts of the world. Independence is such a part of our culture in this country that it rather naturally works its way over into our Christian psyches and faith practices. We conceive that maturation must mean independence – from Christ, maybe from God, and certainly from the Spirit. Nothing could be further from the truth.
“By this we know that we abide in him and he in us . . .” Did you hear the word – abide – the illustration from John’s gospel for us today is the vine and the branches. There is no “independence” in the world of vine growing. Rather, we see something quite dependent – branches can’t grow if they’re not still attached to the vine. We remain in the vine. We get our life forces from the vine. If God is our Source - if Christ and the Spirit of God are our Source – we must remain attached – fully dependent on the Spirit – for any “fruitful” outcome. When we achieve “dependence,” only then can we speak of “interdependence” – the idea that the vine, this source, needs us, just like we need the vine.

I have a berry vine growing in my backyard. Actually, it’s the only thing growing in my garden this year, and it’s starting to take over. I consulted a berry vine expert this week, and I now know how to address its overgrowth. You know about berries – well, really any fruit, for that matter. It’s the new branches that bear the best fruit. In the berry world, last year’s new branches produce the “king fruit,” and this years “new growth” will produce something less spectacular. But it will mature, and will produce more and better berries – next year.

In the epistle, John comes back to remind us that “God is love.” Then in verse 18 he says, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear . . .” So much of the reason that we don’t mature in the Spirit is fear. What did the man say in the garden – “I hid, because I was afraid . . .?” Isn’t fear the thing that works against us when it comes to obedience to spiritual prompting? “Don’t call your friend – they’ll think you’re nuts for calling out of the blue like that!!” “You can’t teach a Sunday School class – what if the children know more that you know?” By the way, I can help you with that one. We have some smart kiddos back in the back, and some of them just might know more than you know – but not to worry – they’re pretty gracious about helping adults, and Mary and Gary and Debbie can teach you a couple of tricks so that you don’t look like you don’t know what you’re doing. Remember, perfect love casts out fear. Love trumps evil. Christ has defeated death – that’s the theme of Easter, and really the theme of the Christian life, all year long.

I know you think I sound like a broken record, but we first start learning how to respond to the promptings of the Spirit with our sisters and brothers in this church. I say to you, this church, because this is where God has planted you. Grow here. Mature here. Bear fruit here. Then we branch out, much like Philip did when he trusted the Spirit to lead him to that Ethiopian in the desert. He didn’t fail – how could he – he followed the leading of the Spirit.

Brothers and sisters – friends of mine on this journey – love is being perfected in us and among us. Abide in the Spirit. Bear fruit. Mature in your faith – in the Spirit.

Richard W. Dunn, PhD.

[1] Matthew Fox, A New Reformation: Creation Spirituality and the Transformation of Christianity, (Inner Traditions, Rochester, Vt.), p.7.

Maturing Faith: Of the Heart

4th Sunday of Easter

1st John 3:16-24

Love one another.

There were four children in my family of origin. I was the eldest, born in 1957; Tony came along in 1958, Rusty in ’63, and Tracy surprised us all in ’68 – eleven years my junior. As in most families, I suppose, as we aged, disciplining us became something of a “more difficult” task. We would fuss and argue about pretty much anything. We were experts at making sure Mom knew that the discipline meted out on any one of us “wasn’t fair” in comparison to how the others were treated. By the time I was in High School, Mother had started to resort to attempting to shame us into superior behavior. More than once she would look at us, and all she could say was “Children, love one another!!” It was all we could do to keep from cracking up.

That still happens from time to time, when we’re together. We have a strong competitive streak in our family, and occasionally we get into some kind of verbal argument about some absurd point, and Mom will watch from the sidelines until she can’t stand it any more, and then wade in with her admonition – “Children, love one another.”

Strangely, her words always made us stop short. You see, they weren’t her words – at least they weren’t original with her. Jesus first spoke these words, and then John took up the task of reminding us - as Christians, we are to love one another.

It never gets any easier to hear these words from John. Love one another. We have some questions. “John, are we supposed to love everybody, or just the people we go to church with? I mean, you know that we’re in a war right now, and that we’re having to pay nearly $3.00 at the gas pump, and politicians are worse than ever, and those other kind of Baptists really get our goat? Are we supposed to love all those people too, or just our families and our sisters and brothers at church?” Yeah – it never gets any easier.

Christ expects us to mature in our faith. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind. Grow in your love for God. Mature – and as you gather more resources about you – resources of heart, soul, strength and mind – offer those resources to God as well. Love God, and show God that you love God by loving others.”

When we encounter 1st John, he challenges our growth – our maturity in love – by starting out with the example of Christ. “We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us – and we ought to lay down our lives for one another.”

“Well, John – that brings up a few more questions. You say we ought to lay down our lives in love? Does that mean that we really have to? And like we asked a while ago – just who are these people we’re supposed to lay down our lives for? Arabs, Africans, Mexicans – or just Americans? Muslims, Jews, pagans – or just Christians? Catholics, Lutherans, and Methodists – or just Baptists? Just how far are you asking us to go in this “lay down your lives” thing?”

You and I know the answer to these questions – but our minds ask them anyway. Our minds and our hearts, calloused by the world, seek to limit the scope to which we serve God by loving others. The answer is simple, really – we are to extend the love of Christ to every person for whom Christ died. When you start to question whom you should love, remind yourself of John 3:16 – “For God so loved the world . . .”

There is a sense in which our love starts at home. John states it for us – “How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help?” Our own homes, and our own church is the starting place. We prove the love of Christ first with those whom we already love. And the implication from John is that if we can’t start loving at home, how will we succeed beyond those reaches? Lest we be confused we are to take the love of God to our Jerusalem, our Judea, our Samaria, and to the farthest reaches of the world. You and I are called to share the love of Christ with people in Enid, folks in Oklahoma, neighbors in Kansas, and people outside of our country. That is the scope of the ever expansive reach of our love for others.

John has more for us to hear. “Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” There is some evidence that the church John originally wrote these words to had some problems getting along with one another. Every church is like that to some degree, I suppose – and although our church does better than most in this area, we must constantly be on guard. We must constantly be concerned that our actions match our speech – that we don’t just “say” that we love each other, but that our actions prove the love we have for each other. John gives us the standard – and it’s a tough standard – individual conscience. Here’s the way we frame the question for ourselves – this day and every day – “Does the way I act toward my fellow church members prove to my own mind and heart that I love them?” I can tell you right now – as your pastor, I stand condemned on this one. I don’t do nearly enough to prove to my own mind and heart that I truly love each person in this congregation. God knows my heart – and I come up short.

When I was in seminary, and looking for some good commentary sets to fill my library shelves, the cheapest set of New Testament commentaries I could find was the Tyndale NT Commentaries. I think I bought the whole set for $60 bucks. Anyway, over the years I’ve taught 1st John probably 15 times to one group or the other, and I always go back to this Tyndale commentary for the structure to my teaching. John R.W. Stott is the author of this particular volume, and Stott makes the point that in 1st John, John lays out a three-fold test related to confidence in our Christian faith. The first test is the moral test – the test of obedience. It’s stated in 1st John 2:3 – “By this we know that we have come to know Him, if we keep His commandments.” John says that one indicator that we are truly Christian is if we remain obedient to Christ by obeying the commandments of Christ. Then the third test in the series is the doctrinal test – we might call it the “belief” test – do we truly believe that Jesus is the Christ. But the second test – the social test – is what we might call the “love” test – John says that we can know that we are Christian by our love for one another. John begins his argument for the social test in chapter 2:7-11. In verse 9, he says, “the one who says he is in the light and yet hates his brother is in the darkness until now, and the one who loves his brother abides in the light and there is no cause for stumbling in him.”

So, according to John there are three tests to our Christian faith – 1. Do we believe that Jesus is the Christ, 2. Do we obey His commandments, and 3. Do we love our brothers and sisters? John spends the rest of the book of 1st John elaborating on these tests, and considering them in combination.

Here, starting in verse 21, the sense of what John is doing is quite clear. He reminds us that our conscience holds us each to account, and if our conscience is clear, we can have confidence before God. Then He says that we can ask of God anything we wish because we keep the commandments of God, and then John reminds us that the greatest of the commandments is to love each other. He looks at the moral test and the social test in response to one another. We best keep the commandment of God by loving one another. That’s his point – we are commanded to love.

This week I read Will Willimon on this passage, and he titled his sermon study “Determined to Love.” He offers something of a different motivation for loving – one of personal, solid determination. He makes the case that Christians show a different kind of love than the world knows – one that is forged in personal determination to prove our love to Christ by loving those for whom Christ died.

The reason I mention these two resources – Stott and Willimon – is to point out that when it comes to love, motivation is important to consider. Here’s why – love is a sneaky thing, and the way the world looks at love doesn’t help the matter any. Our world would have us believe that love is something that we feel – period. We love because we are captivated by someone else – by their looks, by their beauty, perhaps by their personality or some other innate quality – and we simply can’t help ourselves – we fall in love. That’s the world’s definition of love. I suppose there’s something to it, but Christian love offers another viewpoint. We love as a choice. We choose to love.

Like God did.

God chose to send Christ. First God created us. That was a love choice. God didn’t have to create us, but God did. Then God gave us opportunity to live here, free on the earth. We took advantage of that opportunity, and we squandered it by choosing to live our lives apart from the will of God. We sinned. So, by God’s choice, God made provision for our redemption. God sent Jesus. God sent Jesus to pay the price for our redemption, and while He was here, to show us how to live. Jesus was the greatest example of love the world has known. You have questions about how to love – look to Jesus. He showed us – perfectly. He came to this world in love. He lived a life of service in love. He taught us about the Father in love. He stretched out his arms to die for us in love. And He rose from the grave in love. Then, again in love, Jesus sent the Spirit to abide in us, that we might know His love, and that we might share His love with others. All of this – in love.

About two years ago, I started collecting DVDs of Academy Award winning movies. My most recent acquisition is “Shakespeare in Love” – the story of William Shakespeare during the time he was writing Romeo and Juliet. You remember the story line of Romeo and Juliet. Young, star crossed lovers – greatest love story every written. Anyway, in the movie, there is discussion as to whether someone can write a love story that shows love at its zenith. Someone makes a bet, and Queen Elizabeth says, “Fifty pounds! A very worthy sum on a very worthy question. Can a play show us the very truth and nature of love? I bear witness to the wager, and will be the judge of it as occasion arises. I have not seen anything to settle it yet.”[1]

In the end of the story of Romeo and Juliet, the lovers unknowingly show their love for each other by taking their own lives. Queen Elizabeth is duly impressed, and commands that the wager be paid.

Shakespeare was on to something, I think. The greatest expression of love calls upon someone to give their life. That’s what Jesus did. He gave His life.

I have a question to ask us. Members of Cornerstone, I have a question for us. How do we lay down our lives for each other? I am the judge – for my conscience only. You are the judge – for your conscience.

Beloved, we ought to love one another. And we ought to lay down our lives for one another. Whatever motivation you need to get there - whatever encouragement you need – this is our calling – to mature in love for one another, even as Christ has loved us.

Richard W. Dunn, PhD.

[1] http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0138097/quotes