Making Love Visible
Sermon
Ashes To Ascension
Second Lesson Sermons For Lent/Easter
How do you like being addressed as "little children"? Many times the way a speaker addresses his audience is a clue of what is coming. "Ladies and gentlemen" gives one the feeling that a formal speech is coming. "Friends" is a signal of a different kind of speech, maybe a bit more folksy and intimate. "Brethren" is a sign, especially when women are present, that we are about to hear some sort of sermon that may be out of touch with reality. The apostle addresses us as "little children" and then he appeals to our mature judgment. These words express a certain tenderness and affection, as a father would have for his children. He is reminding us of Jesus' words when he said that it is as little children that we enter the kingdom of God. He is going to talk about the greatest theme in the world -- the God who is and the kind of people we are meant to be. He is going to deal with the very heart and center of the Christian life.
God Is Love
"God is love." John is the only writer in the whole Bible who said it. This is the central theme of our Christian faith. The same writer who tells us that God is love is the one who wrote that "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son" (John 3:16a). There are many religions that have something to say about this love, but there is only one that says that this love became visible in the life and death of a human being who was the perfect reflection of the Father in heaven. John begins this epistle by declaring how this love became visible: "We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life -- this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it ..." (1:1-2a). John declares that this love of God was made visible in Jesus Christ. Yes, visible. Love became visible as Jesus walked the village streets preaching good news to the poor; visible in the healing of lepers; visible in the casting out of demons; visible in feeding the hungry; visible in his acceptance of the outcast and the downtrodden. This visibility reached its climax in the most vivid manner -- the champion of the poor, the friend of sinners, the giver of life is crucified on Calvary. The love of God through Jesus Christ became visible. It was only after John looked back upon the life of Jesus that was lived out so visibly before him that he could say, "God is love."
From Creed To Deed
Today, Christ is gone physically. Now it is only through the Christian that the love of God becomes visible. Our words and our creeds need to be transformed into deeds as John declares in the text, "Let us love, not in words or speech, but in truth and action." A junior high student in reading King Lear discovers that she is having difficulty in really encountering King Lear. She is reading the words, but King Lear is not meant to be read as much as it is to be acted out -- it is a play. The Christian faith is just that way. You have seen the books on major Christian beliefs and what Christians believe. The implications may be that the Christian faith is a set of intellectual propositions. But Jesus was not a philosopher. He did not ask people to agree with him but to follow him. Maybe we are being misled by the way we worship on Sunday morning. What do we do when we come to church? We sit and listen. The pastor talks and we listen. The choir sings and we listen. Do we give the wrong impression about the Christian faith, that it is more of a passion than an action? The fact is, the Christian faith is only known by its performance. The evidence of the Christian faith will always be the Christ-like lives it produces. A secular second century historian declared: "What lives these Christians produce." That has always been the essence of the Christian faith -- making love visible.
Leonard Sweet, Dean of Drew Theological Seminary, tells the story about a woman who is the lay leader of her church in North Carolina. He said she would hardly qualify for a popular definition of a saint. Her methods were unorthodox, her theology was never very apparent, and her language was sprinkled with words that she never learned in Sunday school. But she knew about the world and she had the odd notion that God expected her to be busy in the world on God's behalf.
One day as she cruised down the main street in her hometown, a local policeman stopped a car driven by a youth who was traveling in front of her. She had read in the local paper how the town was supported in part by fines of youthful, out-of-town tourists. She stopped her car behind that of the policeman. "Can I help you, Miss Peggy?" he asked. "Yes, why did you stop that car?" she responded. The officer answered, "I stopped him because he is speeding, and really, it is none of your business." "Well, I am making it my business," she said. "I am sick and tired of you people busting these kids for minor offenses. If he was speeding, then I was speeding. I was traveling behind him at the same speed. You stopped him because he is young, black, and out of state." Irritated, the officer said to her, "This is none of your concern or business." She answered, "I told you it is my business. It is not right and you know it. Let's all go down to the station and talk this over." The policeman did not answer. He got into his car and drove off, muttering to himself something about a "smart-mouth woman." As the woman started her car she said to the young man, "Son, be careful," and drove off. Maybe she had heard a sermon on Sunday about justice and fair play. Here she had an opportunity to speak against an action that she thought was unfair and unjust. She heard Jesus say, "Go and do likewise."
From Belief To Action
In a recent eight-part series on PBS documenting the development of the American West, there was a vivid description of the horrible plight of the Native Americans. Their suffering was beyond description. The massacre, pain, anguish, and suffering of tens of thousands of Native Americans was clearly documented. As has happened in similar incidents, some of the atrocities were done in the name of God. I could not help asking myself while viewing these emotional and soul-wrenching accounts of human death and suffering, "Where was the Christian church?" But that was long ago and far away. But what about our community when the golf courses had signs which read: Gentiles Only. What about signs on rest rooms, water fountains, classrooms, and restaurants that read: White Only. What about invisible signs that still are on many boardrooms and committee rooms that read: Men Only. Where is the voice of the Church today? Our voice is weak and barely a whisper, because we have been partially responsible for erecting the signs in the first place. However, we in the Church are responsible for the signs that hang on certain pulpits that read: Men Only. When in the assembly of the congregation we are challenged by the words of Micah "to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God" (Micah 6:8) and then confronted with Jesus' words "to love your neighbor," how does that live itself out on Monday mornings? How are you doing in taking the high sounding words of Christian love and concern and turning them into human action? In our text we are to love as Christ loved, "not in words or speech, but in truth and action."
Having Compassion
In Matthew 14 a very interesting event took place in Jesus' life. Jesus traveled by boat to a deserted place in order to get some very needed peace and quiet. The people heard where he was headed, so they traveled by land and got there ahead of him so that when Jesus came ashore, in what he thought was a deserted, quiet place, he was confronted by a great crowd. Jesus' response in seeing the crowd might have been one of consternation. He might have been irritated at their constant demands and being jostled by their presence. He might have easily resented the crowd that was depriving him of a quietness that he so desperately needed after hearing about John the Baptist's death. But it was not to be. He was far from ever finding the crowd a nuisance, instead "he had compassion for them" (v. 14). Why did he draw such a crowd -- because a loving, caring, generous person always draws a crowd. Jesus showed his compassion for them by feeding the hungry, healing the sick, casting out demons, comforting the sorrowful, befriending the outcast, and preaching the good news of God's love to the poor.
A loving, caring, and generous Church always draws a crowd. People do not come to church because of what we say, but because of what we do. People do not come because of words and speech, but they come because of truth and action. A non-growing church needs to ask itself if it has a genuine, all-consuming passion and concern for people. It could be that the church is not making a difference in people's lives. So why should they come and support it? They have better places to go and more important things to do. How easy it is to lose a passion for souls. Before a congregation realizes it, proper polity and procedure become more important than people, maintenance and preservation of buildings crowd out opportunities for ministry and the care of souls, and soon such a church finds itself interested in just a select group of people, mainly those just like themselves. Jesus drew a crowd because he loved the people. The church will draw a crowd if it has compassion and love for the people -- all people.
I recently returned from West Africa, where I was a visiting lecturer at Trinity Theological College in Legon, Ghana. I met numerous young adults from the United States who were serving in the Peace Corps. One day at the American Club in Accra I met a young woman who was an agriculturalist from the University of Minnesota. She had spent the last two years in Ho, which is a very remote agricultural region in northwest Ghana. In our conversation I discovered she had been working with the Ghanaian farmers in developing new crops, and she was going home for a few months. She looked tired and somewhat haggard. She told me how isolated it had been living in the Ho region and that she had been sick on numerous occasions and had suffered through malaria. She told me after her brief visit to the States that she was coming back to complete her three-year term. I asked her, "Why do you do it? Why do you give up your career back home to go to such a remote area and work under such extremely difficult conditions?" Her answer was simply, "Because I love the people." There is no more noble reason. Barbra Streisand's lyrics are right on target, "People who love people are the happiest people in the world."
The apostle is saying to us in our text to make the love of God visible. I am amazed at the number of people who never get around to doing the things they say are important. We are so busy trying to sound good, look good, and feel good that we never actually have time to do good. The challenge of the text is unmistakable -- let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.
God Is Love
"God is love." John is the only writer in the whole Bible who said it. This is the central theme of our Christian faith. The same writer who tells us that God is love is the one who wrote that "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son" (John 3:16a). There are many religions that have something to say about this love, but there is only one that says that this love became visible in the life and death of a human being who was the perfect reflection of the Father in heaven. John begins this epistle by declaring how this love became visible: "We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life -- this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it ..." (1:1-2a). John declares that this love of God was made visible in Jesus Christ. Yes, visible. Love became visible as Jesus walked the village streets preaching good news to the poor; visible in the healing of lepers; visible in the casting out of demons; visible in feeding the hungry; visible in his acceptance of the outcast and the downtrodden. This visibility reached its climax in the most vivid manner -- the champion of the poor, the friend of sinners, the giver of life is crucified on Calvary. The love of God through Jesus Christ became visible. It was only after John looked back upon the life of Jesus that was lived out so visibly before him that he could say, "God is love."
From Creed To Deed
Today, Christ is gone physically. Now it is only through the Christian that the love of God becomes visible. Our words and our creeds need to be transformed into deeds as John declares in the text, "Let us love, not in words or speech, but in truth and action." A junior high student in reading King Lear discovers that she is having difficulty in really encountering King Lear. She is reading the words, but King Lear is not meant to be read as much as it is to be acted out -- it is a play. The Christian faith is just that way. You have seen the books on major Christian beliefs and what Christians believe. The implications may be that the Christian faith is a set of intellectual propositions. But Jesus was not a philosopher. He did not ask people to agree with him but to follow him. Maybe we are being misled by the way we worship on Sunday morning. What do we do when we come to church? We sit and listen. The pastor talks and we listen. The choir sings and we listen. Do we give the wrong impression about the Christian faith, that it is more of a passion than an action? The fact is, the Christian faith is only known by its performance. The evidence of the Christian faith will always be the Christ-like lives it produces. A secular second century historian declared: "What lives these Christians produce." That has always been the essence of the Christian faith -- making love visible.
Leonard Sweet, Dean of Drew Theological Seminary, tells the story about a woman who is the lay leader of her church in North Carolina. He said she would hardly qualify for a popular definition of a saint. Her methods were unorthodox, her theology was never very apparent, and her language was sprinkled with words that she never learned in Sunday school. But she knew about the world and she had the odd notion that God expected her to be busy in the world on God's behalf.
One day as she cruised down the main street in her hometown, a local policeman stopped a car driven by a youth who was traveling in front of her. She had read in the local paper how the town was supported in part by fines of youthful, out-of-town tourists. She stopped her car behind that of the policeman. "Can I help you, Miss Peggy?" he asked. "Yes, why did you stop that car?" she responded. The officer answered, "I stopped him because he is speeding, and really, it is none of your business." "Well, I am making it my business," she said. "I am sick and tired of you people busting these kids for minor offenses. If he was speeding, then I was speeding. I was traveling behind him at the same speed. You stopped him because he is young, black, and out of state." Irritated, the officer said to her, "This is none of your concern or business." She answered, "I told you it is my business. It is not right and you know it. Let's all go down to the station and talk this over." The policeman did not answer. He got into his car and drove off, muttering to himself something about a "smart-mouth woman." As the woman started her car she said to the young man, "Son, be careful," and drove off. Maybe she had heard a sermon on Sunday about justice and fair play. Here she had an opportunity to speak against an action that she thought was unfair and unjust. She heard Jesus say, "Go and do likewise."
From Belief To Action
In a recent eight-part series on PBS documenting the development of the American West, there was a vivid description of the horrible plight of the Native Americans. Their suffering was beyond description. The massacre, pain, anguish, and suffering of tens of thousands of Native Americans was clearly documented. As has happened in similar incidents, some of the atrocities were done in the name of God. I could not help asking myself while viewing these emotional and soul-wrenching accounts of human death and suffering, "Where was the Christian church?" But that was long ago and far away. But what about our community when the golf courses had signs which read: Gentiles Only. What about signs on rest rooms, water fountains, classrooms, and restaurants that read: White Only. What about invisible signs that still are on many boardrooms and committee rooms that read: Men Only. Where is the voice of the Church today? Our voice is weak and barely a whisper, because we have been partially responsible for erecting the signs in the first place. However, we in the Church are responsible for the signs that hang on certain pulpits that read: Men Only. When in the assembly of the congregation we are challenged by the words of Micah "to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God" (Micah 6:8) and then confronted with Jesus' words "to love your neighbor," how does that live itself out on Monday mornings? How are you doing in taking the high sounding words of Christian love and concern and turning them into human action? In our text we are to love as Christ loved, "not in words or speech, but in truth and action."
Having Compassion
In Matthew 14 a very interesting event took place in Jesus' life. Jesus traveled by boat to a deserted place in order to get some very needed peace and quiet. The people heard where he was headed, so they traveled by land and got there ahead of him so that when Jesus came ashore, in what he thought was a deserted, quiet place, he was confronted by a great crowd. Jesus' response in seeing the crowd might have been one of consternation. He might have been irritated at their constant demands and being jostled by their presence. He might have easily resented the crowd that was depriving him of a quietness that he so desperately needed after hearing about John the Baptist's death. But it was not to be. He was far from ever finding the crowd a nuisance, instead "he had compassion for them" (v. 14). Why did he draw such a crowd -- because a loving, caring, generous person always draws a crowd. Jesus showed his compassion for them by feeding the hungry, healing the sick, casting out demons, comforting the sorrowful, befriending the outcast, and preaching the good news of God's love to the poor.
A loving, caring, and generous Church always draws a crowd. People do not come to church because of what we say, but because of what we do. People do not come because of words and speech, but they come because of truth and action. A non-growing church needs to ask itself if it has a genuine, all-consuming passion and concern for people. It could be that the church is not making a difference in people's lives. So why should they come and support it? They have better places to go and more important things to do. How easy it is to lose a passion for souls. Before a congregation realizes it, proper polity and procedure become more important than people, maintenance and preservation of buildings crowd out opportunities for ministry and the care of souls, and soon such a church finds itself interested in just a select group of people, mainly those just like themselves. Jesus drew a crowd because he loved the people. The church will draw a crowd if it has compassion and love for the people -- all people.
I recently returned from West Africa, where I was a visiting lecturer at Trinity Theological College in Legon, Ghana. I met numerous young adults from the United States who were serving in the Peace Corps. One day at the American Club in Accra I met a young woman who was an agriculturalist from the University of Minnesota. She had spent the last two years in Ho, which is a very remote agricultural region in northwest Ghana. In our conversation I discovered she had been working with the Ghanaian farmers in developing new crops, and she was going home for a few months. She looked tired and somewhat haggard. She told me how isolated it had been living in the Ho region and that she had been sick on numerous occasions and had suffered through malaria. She told me after her brief visit to the States that she was coming back to complete her three-year term. I asked her, "Why do you do it? Why do you give up your career back home to go to such a remote area and work under such extremely difficult conditions?" Her answer was simply, "Because I love the people." There is no more noble reason. Barbra Streisand's lyrics are right on target, "People who love people are the happiest people in the world."
The apostle is saying to us in our text to make the love of God visible. I am amazed at the number of people who never get around to doing the things they say are important. We are so busy trying to sound good, look good, and feel good that we never actually have time to do good. The challenge of the text is unmistakable -- let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.
