The Love of Your Life

John 15:9-17

John 15 is a hard chapter because Jesus lays out exactly what it takes to be a disciple of Jesus—love others as Jesus loved us.

Simple, no?

Even a child can grasp the logic of this call. Yet, as we all know, sometimes the simplest things are the most difficult to actually do. Jesus died for the world. Is that what we are supposed to do? Believe it or not, there was a time in the early centuries of the church when a concerned bishop had to write to the churches to stop people from seeking martyrdom lest the church be emptied before it could get established! That is not quite the issue before us. Instead, we seem caught in a moment when some would readily say, fairly or unfairly,  that church barely rises to anything. But who wants to seek to die except a fanatic? What are we to do? Is there not some median response? Will we be faithful?

As I stood with our friends and neighbors in a tiny church, tucked in mountain hamlet, far, far away from any town of any size, dedicating their new computer lab, a realization struck me—even computers, something I feel utterly safe in saying that Jesus said nothing about, can be used for expanding the love found in Jesus and be a way to meet the fullness of his command. 

That lab is to be used by the children of the community and adult learners. It is meant to give folks who would otherwise have limited access to a computer a way to connect. Connecting is something absolutely essential in our world. Thirty years ago, computers were still basically toys—fancy typewriters and a new platform for games. Then came the internet, and suddenly the world was at our very fingertips. Now in a couple of clicks, you can be anywhere in the world; you can peruse the collections of the world’s libraries; and you can engage in the business of the world. In fact, without a computer, you can do less and less. My parents just realized they will no longer receive a hard copy of their bank statement, something they have relied on for over sixty years of marriage. Without a computer, you can fall right out of the world, lost, isolated, and alone. From there, you can do little, and even run the risk of losing any meaning for life. So, that row of computers in a tiny church in a tiny hamlet way up in the northern mountains of California becomes an implement of the kingdom, offering necessary access to the world without which they would become lost, left behind, and left out. Those children and adults could be trapped in crushing poverty with little or no hope for redemption.

In other words, that church found a way to love others as Jesus has loved them.

And what of us? Are our eyes and ears as open? 

To be sure they are, we need to fully and completely align ourselves with Jesus and his love. We need to consider the depth and breadth of that love. It is truly miraculous love. It is able to see any human being in their truest identity as a child of God without exception (remember Jesus sought the reclamation of even those executing him). 

We need to consider the power of that love in our time of increasing fragmentation and division. Politics is now tribal. So, too, are so many aspects of city life. Business is all about defeating—if not destroying—all competitors. Even in church life, we see this propensity to divide and denigrate as in the name of God so many statements are made condemning someone else. Churches are known more for their gatekeeping than their compassion.

That is not the love espoused by Jesus. 

The love espoused by Jesus is found in the table set before us we Presbyterians do not name an altar, but a dinner table.

One of my favorite parts of leading worship on a Communion Sunday is getting to issue the invitation to the table. I get tell everyone about the miraculous love of Jesus as I get to say to all of you that every single one of you is welcome at this table, no matter who you are, how you are, what you are, or where you are. You are all children of God, created by God, loved into life by God, and held in adoration by God. And because of that, you are invited to the table to sit with all the other children of God, to sit in the presence of God, to be fed by God, and redeemed by God from everything and anything that would break you, rob you of your glory, or keep you from being anything other than a beloved child of God. I get to issue that invitation because of the miraculous love found in God. What a joy! What a privilege! That is the love that saves, that overcomes any and all barriers, and that leads to the radical welcome that truly builds a community out of the countless tribes of earth.

Now Jesus lets us know exactly what such love entails—there is no greater love than to give one’s life for one’s friends.

Oops. Is this the proverbial kicker?

No, not really. It is the call to realize that God’s love is not a treasure to be hoarded, but a gift to be shared—shared until we have given it all away, given ourselves away giving it, and giving until everyone else is full beyond sated. That still sounds like a catch, but it isn’t. It isn’t because God meets such self-emptying with total replenishment. That is really what resurrection is all about—we can completely lose our lives in love, but God will raise them up. The emptier we become loving others, the fuller we become. It is a lasting rule of stewardship—the more a church gives away, the more they will receive. If we live into self-emptying for love, others respond, filling us back up, joining in, and growing the kingdom. The point is not to literally die, but to let go of all we have, seeing that all we have is a gift to be shared to feed all people—body, mind, and heart. God will continually fill us as we share more and more so more and more can be fed.

So, you see, there is no gotcha in the love of God.

A little church in the far away mountains got the message. They pooled their resources—meager, for they have all of two members—and found they had more than enough. They chose to live into the love found in Jesus. They have found more and more ways to give themselves away. They found that even something as utterly technical as computers can become tools for the Spirit. And they found that the more they gave away the more people gave to them so they could give it away. Yes, that’s really odd economics, but it is utterly and completely faithful. It is the life of faith.

We can all do this. I am sure of it. I know it! It is proclaimed surely and certainly at the table. We gather together, undivided, loved, cherished, and blessed. We are fed a ridiculously sparse feast—a scrap of fairly tasteless bread, a sip of juice—yet it feeds the totality of who we are. And then it sends us. Share this table. Spread this feast. Feed the people. FEED THE PEOPLE. It boldly and strongly proclaims this good news, the claim on us and the call to us. 

Are we tuned in to hear it?