Year B, Easter 5 1 John 4:7-21
In the church, we like to discuss the
humility of Jesus Christ. Typically when
we are referring to his humility, we are talking about his humble origins—being
born in a barn to a poor couple with no connections. Or…we focus on his death on a cross, the experience
of being stripped, whipped and then hung on a cross between two criminals. It was a method of killing that was meant to
humiliate.
However,
while his birth and death are powerful images, they are not very relatable
displays of humility. Where I see
Christ’s humility most abundantly is in his ability to love people, even when
they were wrong. Jesus was the very
embodiment of the truth, yet ironically, he was often considered wrong. He was judged or scolded by not only the
religious leaders of the time—but sometimes--- his own disciples.
He knew he was right. If he had wanted to, he could have forced
people to see the error of their ways, but he chose not to. Why?
We know he wasn’t a pushover. He
still corrected people and taught people.
He spoke the truth. He engaged in
debate, but it was always out of a place of love. He was right.
He was always right and even he allowed himself the humanity of not
being able to convince people of how right he was. That….from an all-powerful, all knowing God…that
is humility.
We often act like church conflict is
a modern phenomenon, or at least a phenomenon of the last 500 years. But conflict in the church has existed as
long as the church has existed. 1st
John was written in about 100 AD. By
this time, the Christian community was somewhat established. There was some structure and even doctrine to
an extent. Once there was a core set of
beliefs, people started arguing about that core set of beliefs. That was what was probably happening in this
community that the author was writing about.
People were arguing and they were so mad at one another, some left the
community all together.
The author of 1st John
was working hard to remind people in the community to love another—not because
they were all of one mind, not because they were Christians, not even because
they deserved to be loved, but because God loved them. That was it. That was the only reason that
mattered—the only reason that still matters.
We love one another because God loved us first.
And
it wasn’t a gentle admonition the author was giving. He said, “Those who
say, ‘ love God,’ and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars…” If you
cannot show love to your fellow believers, then you cannot love God. That
was the interesting part of this. He
wasn’t even talking about their enemies; the author was talking about the
people in their own community. And that
makes sense when you think about it. It’s harder to sincerely love the people
we know than those who we don’t really know at all.
This idea of loving one another is
not new to 1st John. We hear
about it in the Gospels, most potently in the Gospel of John. At the Last Supper, Jesus told his disciples,
“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should
love one another. By this everyone will
know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
Jesus said this to his disciples, right after Judas left to betray
him and immediately before he told Peter that he would deny him (which by the
way, Peter told him he was wrong about that.)
In the midst of all that pain, he washed their feet and shared a meal.
He was showing his disciples what it was to love people, even when they have
betrayed and denied you, even when they have deserted the community. Jesus knew what they would face after his
death, resurrection and ascension. He
knew how hard it would be establishing the Christian community. He wanted them to see what it looked like, to
love people who hurt you.
On the one hand, this all seems so
obvious. Of course we are supposed to
love one another. We hear that over and over! But the rationale is less obvious. Imagine a parent saying to his/her bickering
children, “I love you and therefore, you must love one another.” I am not sure
that would be very effective.
But there is more at stake than simply how we treat one
another. The author wrote, “if we love
one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.” The word that
is translated to perfect in Greek doesn’t define perfect in the way we perceive
perfection. It doesn’t mean without flaw or sin. It means completed or
fulfilled its purpose. We must love one
another because that is how God’s love for us is complete. It’s a full circle. God loves us. We love one another. God’s love is made complete when we love one
another. God’s love lives in us and thus
we love God. This is not simply what we
are asked to do as Christians, it is our primary purpose. It is our very reason for being.
There has been a constant tension in the Christian faith between
maintaining the doctrine of our faith and loving those who we may perceive are compromising
that doctrine. We have seen it in a microcosm in the Episcopal Church over the
last 20 years. We could not agree about
gay marriage and ordination, so a large amount of people left. I am not saying they were wrong to
leave. That would kind of defeat the
purpose of this whole sermon. But it
split the community. It didn’t help us
get along. It didn’t solve any
problems. It just ensured that we
wouldn’t even try to talk anymore. They
can’t learn from us. We can’t learn from them.
That makes it a lot harder to love another.
So what is the answer? For
once, it’s fairly obvious—but not easy.
We do as Jesus did. We continue
to engage in dialogue with those whom we disagree. We recognize that no matter
how well we make our case, we may never convince our brothers and sisters in
Christ of that case. Yet despite that,
we continue to come to the table as Jesus did at the last supper. We share the
bread and the wine. We even serve one
another as Jesus did when he washed the disciples’ feet. We follow Jesus’
example.
That doesn’t mean we can no longer stand up for what we believe
in. The author of John says that when we
love one another and make God’s love complete, then “we may have boldness on
the day of judgment, because as he is, so are we in this world.” That is the
great irony in this. We think that not
being victorious in an argument makes us look weaker. But in terms of our
relationship with God, we have become bolder, more fearless. I think the key is that we never stop trying
to make our point. We do it as gracefully as possible, but we keep doing it,
while also making sure that we listen even more than new speak. I know this is hard, especially for a preacher. But it is what God asks us. Be bold. Be fearless. But above all, be
loving.
Photo by Harli Marten
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