Sixth Sunday of Easter
Acts 10:44-48; I John 5:1-6; John 15:9-17
I overheard two of our preschoolers recently having a conversation that I am sure has been repeated a million times. The first said something like, “Are those cookies?” The second preschooler replied, “Yep.” The first preschooler studied the situation and then announced, “If you let me have one you can be my best friend.”
Joe was the right fielder-always. Art could play any position, pitch, catch, he was a superior infielder Joe played right field-always, where the ball was seldom hit. And Joe batted last. He never hit the ball. He would rarely swing the bat. Art could hit. Really hit. Art was usually picked to be the captain of one of the teams. And one other thing about Art was that he always picked Joe first when they chose teams. Why? Art always picked Joe first when they chose teams because Art was Joe's friend. Friends accept our faults and limitations, accept that we may not be the best. Friendship is a special caring. In Greek, the language of the New Testament, friendship is a special word-philios. In our lesson for today Jesus claims us as his friend his philios. “You are my friends if you do what I command you. And the command is very simple: Love one another as I have loved you. It sounds simple enough only love is sometimes rather complicated.
She was in love, or so she thought, but she had those doubts. She questioned. How do you know? Is it a feeling, the sound of his voice, a certain look? Her mother told her she would just know. All she knew was that she thought of him a lot. She wanted to be around him, a lot. She talked about him to everyone she knew, a lot. Endless telephone conversations, hours and hours of talking, sometimes all they did was listen to each other breathe. Perfect love seems at times to be defined by just knowing that the one you think you love is on the other end of the telephone line. Endless time is spent attempting to interpret every word spoken, every gesture made. Young love is one of the most boring things you can imagine unless you are the one in love. Then the question is, is this real love.
Every confirmation class at Holy Spirit explores not just questions of faith and the Bible but also core questions of life. This year again the sexuality workshop explored a multitude of questions that young people headed for high school and college need to ask. We have never yet had a workshop that did not include in some form the question, what is true love? How do you know? As we explored this question with the young people we discovered the many different answers of culture, tradition and experience. There is the Romeo and Juliet romantic love best described by phrases like: seeing no flaws; ideal; unreal; a superficial love that knows no suffering. In romantic love there are no dull conversations in front of the television, every word spoken is exactly right, every gesture the perfect gesture. Romantic love is perfect and totally unreal. Even more familiar to teens, but by no means limited to them, is infatuated love found in many popular movies and plays which is all emotion. It feels so good, filled with impulsive moments acting on the feeling, nothing matters but the moment. There is no past and no future, only the feeling of the moment. Infatuation is a momentary high that changes when things get a little boring, routine or dull. The reality of infatuation is that there will be changes. As feelings change so do the relationships, nothing endures.
Romantic love, infatuated love, and then there is the love of which Christ spoke. Love ever growing, new yet old, enduring and comfortable, secure yet unknown. Jesus said, No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends. From our post-Easter vantage point we have no doubt of the meaning of these words. This morning’s lesson reminds us that the one who chose us to be his friend also chose to give his life for us.
Jesus invites us to consider that love and friendship are given unconditionally, with no strings attached. But we like our strings. Like the preschooler trading a cookie for friendship we often determine our feelings and relationships by what others do for us. By whether they do it our way, which is, of course, the right way. Parents feel a responsibility to try to help their children do the right things, like the right things, maybe even love the right things. But it doesn’t always work very well. A child sits at the table, a scene we once lived ourselves now recreates itself.
The parent's voice (maybe our voice) is firm and clear, "You will eat what is on your plate and you will like it! You're not leaving this table until every bite is eaten." (Our boys called it "table-traz"-a prison that rivaled Alcatraz) We tell ourselves it is for the child's own good. They must learn to eat broccoli, liver, spinach, or finish a glass of milk and like it! Even as we speak the words our parents once spoke to us we cringe. We know that no one has ever learned to like something just because they were told to do so. They probably will not like it, even if we say they should. We know you can’t force someone to like something or someone else. But Jesus doesn’t care about liking. He commands love.
Jesus said, This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. There are ever more problems with a command to love. It just never seems to work. At least not the way we planned. In our modern world we call them "peace keepers", troops sent in to places to encourage at least a little toleration if not love. But it never seems to work the way we hoped. Troops in Afghanistan, troops in Iraq, peace keepers in Darfur, Africa, walls being built in Israel. We hear the command to love but we keep wanting to do it our way Jesus commanded “love one another as I have loved you.” There is a difference.
Christ’s love is not some romanticized love unwilling to believe that a real Christian’s life has any problems, trials, suffering or pain. Romanticized love seeks simple answers but Christ lived and loved in a very real and very complex world. Jesus did not choose his friends from the perfect people of the world. He loved some of the most unusual types of people. There were fishermen and people who worked for the tax department; there were the politically connected and there were the social activists, there were soldiers and there were the powerless. And likewise Jesus commands us to love others with a love that is grounded in the works of love that reveal his real presence in the world. The command in our lesson for today is a command to be a loving church and that means a community in relationship. No one says simply, “I love.” A relationship of love involves a subject and an object. When we are asked, “Do you love me?” The response is never just “I love.” That is more a question than an answer. Love as commanded by Jesus is a verb. It is active. It is relational.
Bishop Wayne Miller of our Metro Chicago Synod has observed that there is a significant difference in the way the current adult leaders of the church think about the church and the way the newest generation coming into the church think. Bishop Miller notes that the established adult members think about their church in terms of what it is doing. What programs are offered. What activities are planned. But to the newest generation coming of age in our church, the question is not what but who. Who is doing the ministry. Who keeps the faith. Who loves the neighbor. Who builds, who sings, who listens, who prays, who gives, who receives. It is a very old and simple song but the truth of its words cannot be denied. “I am the church, you are the church, we are the church together.” “Love one another as I have loved you.” This is the kind of love that steps out in faith, risking all to be in a relationship with each other, to build community. But that takes committing time and self. That happens only when we make our faith active in love.
This morning eleven young people are being asked to make public affirmation of their faith. This is a public declaration that each of us renews each time we proclaim one of the creeds that we use each week in Sunday worship. The words come easy, it is the living of those words that is the real measure of our faith. The great thing for me about every confirmation class is that everything old is new again. The classic stories that I have told before are new to each new confirmation class. And one of the best stories to be told about the real meaning of faith is the one about Jean Francois Gravelot who was better known in the 19th Century as The Great Blondin. On June 30, 1859 The Great Blondin stood before a crowd of tens of thousands who had gathered at Niagara Falls. On this day The Great Blondin became the first man to walk a three inch tightrope spanning the Niagara Falls. The span was 1,100 feet and was 160 feet above the raging waters but for a man of his skills, the walk was fairly pedestrian. Always the showman, he choreographed a few wobbles and slips in his initial crossing to heighten the drama. When he reached the far side the crowd erupted in cheers but then after saluting the crowd he turned around and walked back across the falls to where he had begun. Once again the crowd cheered. The Great Blondin bowed and then addressed the crowd asking them if they believed he could cross the Falls blindfolded. The crowd predictably cheered, “Yes, we believe, we believe, we believe!” Much to their delight, Blondin donned a blindfold and made another roundtrip across the tightrope. Once again he addressed the crowd, “Do you believe I can cross pushing a wheelbarrow?” Again the crowd chanted, “We believe, we believe, we believe!” Again Blondin successfully crossed the Falls pushing a wheelbarrow, which was no easy feat, even for one so great. By now the crowd was whipped into a frenzy and Blondin shouted, “Do you believe that I can cross pushing a man in the wheelbarrow?” Again the crowd hysterically shouted back, “We believe, we believe, we believe!” Blondin smiled broadly and shouted back to the cheering throng, “It is great that you believe in me. Now who wants to get in the wheelbarrow?” Silence.
It is easy to say “I believe”. It is quite another thing to live the belief. To take the risk of faith that results in the acts of love that Jesus would have us to do. The good news is that we never walk the tightrope alone. In fact, the only step we need to take is into the arms of the one who carries us. The Great Blondin made literally hundreds of crossings of the Falls in the 19th Century and on numerous later occasions he carried several individuals on his back. The only risk, he declared for those who he carried across was that they would let go. Jesus makes it very clear that he is choosing us to bear the fruits of his love and blessing. “I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.” The only risk is that we will let go.
She came right up to him "Do you love me?" she demanded.
"We only just met", he replied
"But I thought you were a Christian," she insisted
"Oh, you mean that kind of love," he said. Christian love. Not romantic, not infatuated. Real fruit bearing love, chosen by God love.
Today is the taking of that one step of faith, and then holding on.
Amen