The Truth

1 John 3:18; 1 Peter 4:8; Ephesians 4:25

Scripture speaks so often of truth. Faith, as defined by scripture, is the pursuit of truth. However, the truth be told, the Church often stumbles over itself in the declaration of truth, too frequently confusing the statements, opinions, and values of the congregation with the truth that is of and from God. So how do we guard ourselves against this fallacy? How do we keep ourselves firmly in the presence of truth—the real truth—the essence of life as defined by God? There are three practices that keep us in the fold—true action, true love, and true speech—the things alluded to in our scripture lessons for the morning.

TRUE ACTION

St. John immediately sets before us an inescapable truth—our words do not mean much if we do not support our words with complementary actions. For example, I can’t say I love to go hiking in the mountains if I never leave Augusta and actually go to the mountains. Likewise, we cannot declare ourselves followers of Christ if our lives do not reflect Christ’s example, work, or presence in the world. As St. James wrote in his epistle, “Faith without works is dead.”

The truth is that Christ revealed the way of love within the world—a love that sought the interests of others as it emptied itself for their sake, sacrificing itself to bring love to fruition. So, if we are to be the people of Christ, our own actions should reflect this truth as we engage with the world around us.

The Parable of the Good Samaritan stands as one of the easiest examples Christ gave of true action. As he describes the plight of the traveler on the road—beaten, robbed, and left for dead—he intentionally injects the presence of the supposedly faithful into the story—a Levite and a priest appear, men completely schooled in the law of God governing human community. They know the inherent core of justice—the love of neighbor as oneself. Compassion is not an option for service; it is a mandate. Suffering is to be met with care, comfort, and with real and actual help. However, these “faithful” men pass by the wounded man. Their actions reveal how little they grasp the principles of their faith. But then appears a Samaritan—again, Jesus intentionally tweaks the conscious of his audience—a Samaritan was an untouchable—a descendant of the Israelite rejects from the time of Exile that destroyed Israel as it was known, including the destruction of Solomon’s temple in Jerusalem—the Samaritans were the descendants of those the Assyrians first and the Babylonians second deemed too worthless to be of use to their empires. Centuries later, no self-respecting Jew would have anything to do with them. Yet, here is a man of faith. Without question, without reserve, without qualm, and without a single thought for himself, he helps the wounded traveler. No matter whom the world named him; no matter how the people of God treated him, and no matter what the cost will be, the Samaritan helps. 

Action proves our mettle. It reveals our true acceptance of God and God’s presence.

TRUE LOVE

I want to return to the principle of love mentioned above—the love with which God loved the world enough to offer his Son as our redemption. 

Without belaboring the point, I want us to be sure we understand what it means to say that God is love. Let me put it this way—the essence of God’s love is that we are still here.

I think all of us have had moments when we really wondered what it was that God thought of us as we look at the world as it is. Some of us, self-deprecatingly, smile as we say, “God must have a sense of humor.” But I want us to seriously consider the core of truth in that bemused affirmation. In some ancient Jewish spirituality—that which gave us the Old Testament that we use—it begins with the affirmation of God’s providence. It started with Creation itself—on the Sixth Day, God ordained that humans and animals would always have food to eat, provided by God in the plants of the world (yes, the Creation narrative has a vegetarian slant). That providence evolves from physical sustenance to the more profound powers of grace to keep mind, heart, and spirit alive. Note how God deals with Adam and Eve after they break the only commandment in the Garden, eating of the Tree of Good and Evil—God does not destroy them, but clothes them. Even as God judges their sin, evicting them from Paradise, God remains with them at a deeply intimate level. It evolves still more in just a few verses as Cain slays Abel. Again, God does not destroy the sinner, but preserves him. Cain fears for his life, sure (his own guilt condemning him) that anyone who sees him will kill him. God promises to be with him, protecting him, and marking him with God’s own sign of possession—Cain will always be God’s own child. That is the absolutely true essence of grace. God deals with the absurdity of human willfulness. God deals with the ridiculous arrogance of human pride that grabs power we have no business wielding. God laughs, resignedly, but laughs, and carries on being God, employing God’s infinite omnicompetence to deal with whatever messes we seem to have no limit in producing. 

Now the truth found in this observation is that we are to love likewise. At your leisure, read 1 Corinthians 13. That paragraph is the manifesto of true love as revealed in Christ—the love we are to act upon as we make our faith real in deeds. 

TRUE SPEECH

Now that we have an understanding of what makes faith real and true, finding the love at its foundation, we can move the final piece of the puzzle, opening our mouths in truth.

And, yes, I intentionally put speaking last in this list—we live in a context defined by speaking, a good bit of it completely self-consumed and self-centered (cable news). So, before we engage our mouths, we can now be sure we will do so properly, speaking truth that flows from love made real in actual practice.

What are we going to say?

St. Paul preaches to all of his congregations that they are to speak in response to and in revelation of their love for one another, carrying that into the world. In many ways, it is utterly basic—the first act many of us do when in the presence of another person is to speak. So, here will be our first revelation of how we understand Christ in the regular course of life. How do we speak? What do we say? 

Use your own experience as a guide here—think of a time when someone spoke to you in a way that communicated your reality as a human being, as a person of value, even if what was said may well have been utterly basic. For instance, while at Cape Cod, I stopped for a coffee (unusual for me, no?) at a place that is coffee house, bakery, and sweet shop all in one. A grandpa got a big ice cream cone for his granddaughter, but it was the way he asked her what she wanted that struck me. The place had thirty flavors, and the little girl wanted to know about 28 of them, so he told her, one by one. Then came the time to choose toppings and there were a zillion to choose from—ground up cookies to gummy bears to sprinkles and on and on. He asked her what she wanted and, again, explained patiently and with care the many options. The little girl got exactly the ice cream she wanted, topped with her own flair, and was about as happy as any human being I have seen lately. All because grandpa practiced true speech, speaking to her in a way that treasured her as it emptied. She got ice cream, but she also knew she was loved.

Go and do likewise.