The Greatest Lesson

1 John 2:1-2

Every day is a celebration. It is a celebratory start to another day of learning. It is a celebration that all of us are still learning who God is, who we are, and how God and we interact, interconnect, and, to use one of Thich Nhat Hahn’s favorite words, inter-are. It is a celebration of life—that life need not ever become uninteresting, that life can be rich and full no matter where we find ourselves along the way, and that the wonders with which God instilled creation never cease to appear, snap us to attention, and amaze us with the glory of simply breathing.

To that end, we seek so many opportunities to gather together to learn and to be. I hope you will find many opportunities to dive in, join a group, and find a flow of discovery. There is so much to see, to experience, and to uncover. 

However, there is a core around which all of this spins, like the hole at the center of the Milky Way. The Apostle John points it to us. He was the theologian of love, for him the very Word that is God. As he continues to marvel at the miracle of Christ with us, he never runs out of new nuances in the manifestation of love revealed in Christ. He sees something new at every turn, something wonderful, and something life-giving for all who choose to enter this circle of faith. Love itself, though, is not the center of it all, but rather a particular, singular, and perhaps peculiar form of love that we quickly name grace, moving on before we take in all the implications held in grace. Here, in his first epistle, he makes a seemingly blithe statement, but one that is not base, simplistic, or superficial in any way. It runs incredibly deep. 

Begin with his basic assertion—John’s motivation is to keep us from sin. What he means by that, as we look for it throughout his Gospel and then in his letters, is separation from God that leads to alienation from each other. In the Gospel narrative, the truest sinners are the most religious in the community (ironic and, yes, a fair warning—there is a vast difference between religion and faith). So sure of their practice, they have lost sight of God, missing the Word before them in Jesus. That is separation beyond separation. As a result, they judge everyone else mercilessly, condemning Jesus for being open and welcoming. That is alienation in spades. John ministers to end such thinking, such ways of being, and to reunite, reconcile, and restore fellowship. 

But John is not naive. It will take more than his carefully crafted words to bring the desired end. Even those who hear his message, join his community, and seek to center on Christ will run into trouble. We are and will remain as human as ever. So, times of separation and alienation continue to be inevitable. 

Now comes the miracle.

It is not hopeless. We are not helpless.

Jesus makes it right. Jesus saves! 

Here is how it works—Jesus enters our existence—every aspect of it. In John’s Gospel, there are seven signs (i.e., miracles) that illumine the ways Jesus enters into full communion with humanity. They run from base to profound, from rather ordinary to inexplicable profundity. You know them all from Sunday School (I hope)

Jesus saves a wedding by bringing really good wine

Jesus saves a child from terminal illness

Jesus saves a man from paralysis

Jesus saves a crowd from famishing

Jesus saves his disciples from fear by taming nature herself

Jesus saves a man from blindness

Jesus saves Lazarus from death itself

As you scroll through this list, there is no human experience which cannot be found in here. Jesus makes each situation “right”—i.e., as God would have it to be. Jesus brings a person or persons from a kind of death into life. No one is lost. No one is left out. Everyone has a place in God’s grace.

Now look at the list again.

Do not too quickly move on—take in the realization that in each case someone felt like they were dying in some way. Something happened that kept them from really being able to be fully present with others (or even themselves). Grace means no one dies.

If no one dies, then no one is hopeless. If Christ offers himself to make any circumstance or situation as it should be, no one is left helpless. In Christ, God deals with it all, and I find myself once again at the feet of my father and his gospel of God’s omnicompetence. God can handle all of us, as we are, how we are, where we are, who we are, and what we are.

That is gloriously good news.

But it is incomplete. We still need to unpack what this good news means. That is more than can be accomplished in one sermon, or even in a set of 52 sermons over a year of Sundays. We need to learn. We need to explore. We need to study. We need teachers. We need wisdom. 

And that is the invitation given this day.

Please accept it. You are more than welcome to be with us. We are glad you are here.