That's the Power of Love - Sermon on Luke 13:31-35

Listen to the sermon here. 

John 13:31-35

31 When he had gone out, Jesus said, "Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him.³² If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once.³³ Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, "Where I am going, you cannot come.'³⁴ I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.³⁵ By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." 

SEMRON 

Love one another.  Amen? Easy enough.  Amen! 

Did you know that the longest sermon ever preached is 53 hours and 11 minutes.  Yes, you heard me, 53 hours 18 minutes. 3 days of preaching. Now I couldn’t verify it as a certified Guinness World Record, but that’s the claim.  In fact, several reputable news outlets reported the even. 53 hours. 

These are the kind of things you find when Google sucks you in and your mind wanders.  And so I kid you not, it was widely reported that in November of 2014, a 31 year old pastor named Zach, preached a sermon...never stopping for more than 30 seconds...to a rotating crowd of people in, get this, Mount Dora, FL.  Practically in our backyard.

53 hours and 18 minutes.  Now, to be fair, in an interview, Zach clarifies that his motivation was not only to proclaim the word of God, but it was to raise awareness and money for a local organization.  

So my friends, sit back, and relax, order some pizza, I think today is a good day to chase the record.  53 hours and 19 minutes. Joking, sort of. 

So, like you, I found myself wondering, “What does someone even talk about for 53 hours?”  Thankfully the interviewer asked this question. Pastor Zach said, “I chose to speak on the Bible and kind of cover the entirety of the story from Genesis to Revelation.  My goal of the whole sermon was to talk about God's ridiculous commitment to God’s people, even though we give up on God that God never gave up on us.” 

53 hours on the theme of God’s ridiculous commitment to God’s people despite our failure.   Now I didn’t read the transcript, but if I interpret the theme correctly and paraphrase just a bit, it seems to me that the entire preaching event was about God’s love for God’s people.  It was about the love of God. A love we are desperate for. A love we are not worthy of. And a love we would do well to learn, receive, and imitate. Love!

There’s the classic tale of a preacher giving the shorte sermon on record.  Obviously, there is no exact record holder, but I’m sure you’ve heard the tale.  Preacher steps into the pulpit. Looks intently across the congregation. Takes a breath and says one word.  Love. Then sits down.

The world’s longest sermon and the world’s shortest.  And when you parse it all out, it seems the theme is the same.  Love. I mean no disrespect to my brother preacher, but you gotta wonder, why in the world use 53 hours of words when one will do?  On average, a person speaks 125 words a minute. That’s 400,000 words, amplifying a theme of love. And here’s the crazy thing, neither had a more powerful message than the other.  Neither was more right. Neither is more theologically brilliant or insightful. Love is love is love. Be loved. Now love one another. Love. Amen?

Beyond raising money for a good organization, why the exhaustive lesson on God’s love?  The more I thought about it, the more I came to realize, because there are times in our lives when we need to hear again and again,  and I mean, 400,000 times, how loved we are. How loved you are. How powerful love can be. Love of a God for God’s people. A passionate, dedicated, ridiculously committed God...who would even take on death...gruesome, humiliating, painful, and tragic death...for the sake of those whom God loves.  You and me.

And sometimes we are so broken.  So beaten. So jaded, torn, distraught, misguided, abused, and neglected. That it takes some repeating.  Maybe even 400,000 reminders that you are loved. 

“I give you a new commandment, Jesus says, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”

Anybody hear the old Nat King Cole classic from 1948?  Nature Boy. It’s been covered so many times, but in the final line, Nat so smoothly sings, “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”  

This new commandment to love one another happens on Christ’s final night with his disciples.  Our small excerpt occurs within a larger story, a story we typically hear on Maundy Thursday. Christ gathers for a meal with his closest friends.  He removes his outer robe, takes on the role of a servant and washes their feet. Then he dines with them. He offers bread and wine, as body and blood of a new covenant.  He even shares the cup with Judas who will soon betray him. And just as Judas leaves, we hear today's text. “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” 

Here’s an honest, vulnerable question.  Is there anyone among us who would argue with Christ’s command to love?  Anyone stand in opposition to Christ’s command, that perhaps love...love for each other and our neighbor is not the way of Christ and the root of our Christian calling?  Any objections?

No of course not.  And why would there be.  Why oppose love? I believe each and everyone of us understand that our call as Christians, as people of God, as believers and witnesses is to love.  As Christ loved us, we should love one another. That makes sense, doesn’t it? 

Seems like an easy and common sense concept right?  Seems like a quality characteristic we might aspire too.  Surely we want to be known and remembered for our love. After all, if God is love, and we are created in God’s image...if Christ teaches and commands us to love...if love is the foundation of our faith and the theme of our Christian narrative...

Then why is it so gosh darn hard for us to love one another as Christ loved us?  Now hear me out. I am not suggesting that anyone among us is void of love. Or lacks the ability to love.  Each and everyone of us is loving, and I’m sure we each have a list of people to attest to that fact. But, let’s be honest….we all at times, whether we mean to or not, show partiality in our love.  

I think we’re all guilty of cherry picking who we love.  Choosing to go against our being and Christ’s command by withholding love when it comes to loving as Christ loved us.

And to be clear, we’re not talking about familial love or brother love.  Love between friends, neighbors, colleagues, and families. There are specific words for that type of love in the original greek.  The love that Jesus commands is agape love. Selfless, sacrificial love. 

Agape is to have love for someone, based on sincere appreciation and high regard...it’s not a love rooted in emotion or feeling.  It’s a love rooted in the preservation and dignity of life. A willingness to humble yourself to lift up another. An intentional and imbedded sacrifice for the sake of the other.   To empty yourself, pouring out for another, with absolutely no reason, motivation, or incentive other than that is who you are created to be.

We might say that such a level of love.  Agape love, seems to be the exception in our society and culture.  Selfless, sacrificial, non-incentivized love is the exception. And Christ calls us to not only receive such love, but to reflect back to the world as well.

So why is it so hard?  Why do we struggle? What within us causes us to put conditions or incentives on love?  It’s easy for me to say that I love everyone, but the truth is it is just as easy for me to justify and convince myself into withholding love.  And the true confession, friends, is that love seems easiest when the other person either looks just like me, or I know that I have something to gain from offering love.

Why is it so hard to love as Christ loves us and as Christ commands.  Are we afraid to be vulnerable? Are we scared we won’t be loved in return.  Maybe we prefer not to be so selfless? Maybe we fear there isn’t enough love to go around.  How can I be so selfless to so many?

I think it ultimately comes down to power, and a fear of giving up our power.  You see, to love as Christ loved is to relinquish power. To humble yourself in order to raise up another.  To remove any power you may hold. Because when we withhold agape love, we deem someone unworthy or unfit of love.  That’s a power move. An abuse of power, even. To have something to give or offer, and to say, I’d rather not offer it for you is a power play.  And God knows, it’s hard to give up power.

This is what makes Christ example of love so radical.  Christ never withheld love. In fact, on the night of our text, Christ removed his outer robe, put on a towel and took on the role of a servant.  Humbled himself before his followers and friends, even those whom we may argue you were unworthy. And Christ washed their feet. He had nothing to gain.  

This what makes Christ’s sacrifice on the cross so radical.  He gave up everything, including his own life, with nothing to gain, for the sake of the world.  Even in his final breaths, Christ prayed for forgiveness for those whom we may argue were unworthy.  

This is Christ’s example of agape love, and holy smokes, we’re called to do the same?  It’s no wonder we struggle with such love. 

There is no weakness if relinquishing power.  In fact, there is power is weakness. Power in vulnerability.  Power in sacrificial, unconditional, Christ-commanded love.

There is power in such love, because loving one another as Christ love us means restoring, preserving, and celebrating the life and dignity of all God’s children.  

It means equality and equity are the norm, not the exception.  

It means acts of generosity and mercy are the norm not the exception.  

It means that siblings take precedent.  

It means we are no longer motivated by fear of the unknown or the other. 

It means health, wholeness, and justice upstage profit and self-interest.  It means empowering the hungry, homeless, last, least, and lost, challenging the systems of oppressive power and preferential love. 

It means washing the foot of unworthy, affirming the unfit, forgiving the unforgivable, and becoming one of the least of these.

In the power of such love, everyone will know that we are Christ’s disciples.  In the power of such love the first heaven and the first earth pass away, as John reveals, and God will dwell among us in the kingdom of God.  Every tear will be wiped away. Death will be no more. Mourning and crying and pain will ease. All things will be made new. 

So, it may seem fair to ask, how do we love as Christ loved?  

First, you dip your fingers in the water of the font, you taste the bread and wine, and you remember that you are loved.  And even more so, you are worthy of Christ’s love. Now and Always. 

Second, we confess that we have not loved with our whole hearts and not loved our neighbors as ourselves.   

Third, you hear the words of forgiveness and acknowledge that you do not have to love perfectly in order to love powerfully.  

Lastly, remember and affirm that love and the power of love are gifts from our grace-filled God.   There is no and will never be any shortage of love. 

As much as you pour our love, God fills you again and again.  And so you love, love, and love some more until the Kingdom of God is fully at hand and Christ’s glorious name is proclaimed by all.

Amen. 

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached May 19, 2019 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Jacksonville, FL

A single flame - Sermon on Matthew 2:1-12 - 01.06.2019

Listen to the gospel lesson and sermon here.

Matthew 2:1-12

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, ² asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage." ³ When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; ⁴ and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. ⁵ They told him, "In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: ⁶ "And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.' " ⁷ Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. ⁸ Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage." ⁹ When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. ¹⁰ When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. ¹¹ On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. ¹² And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

 

Today is a significant day, not only because it’s Epiphany, but because I, as a preacher and pastor have reached what I believe to be a Rite of Passage in my preaching career.  In fact, I think it’s a significant moment in every pastor’s career. It’s the moment that I decide I really want to share a relevant story to start my sermon today, but I can’t remember if and when I might have already told it.

So, let me preface by saying, if you’ve already heard this story, I’m sorry to be repetitive.   And I hope, despite the repetition, that it might resonate with you today. On this day of Epiphany.  And to be certain, as I continue to grow in wisdom and age here at St. Mark’s, this undoubtedly won’t be the last time I repeat myself.  

In the mountains of Tennessee, near Chattanooga, there is a place called Ruby Falls.  Ruby Falls is the nation’s tallest and deepest underground waterfall. In 2007, dad and I took a tour a Ruby Falls.  We entered the elevator and descended nearly 1200 feet below Lookout Mountain.

And as the doors opened, we stepped into a large cavern, busy with tourists.   And just beyond the souvenir stands and food vendors was this enormous waterfall, Ruby Falls.  It was backlit with red flood lights, making it look like...well...Ruby. The falls were named after the discoverer’s wife, Ruby.

Once in the cavern we joined our tour group. The tour would take us deeper into the cave system, so we could take in the stalagmite and stalactites and the wonders of naturally made beauty.  After walking a way, we stepped through a big metal door frame into what I would call a dead end… a nightmare for anyone claustrophobic. Once we gathered in the room, the big metal door slammed behind us.  Our tour guide said, “don’t panic...I’m going to turn off the lights.”

He turned off the lights and gave us a minute to adjust.  He then said, “you are now standing in completely darkness.”  100% darkness….” The room was completely deprived of light. And he told us that no matter what we did or how hard we tried, we would never be able to see even our hand in front of our face.  And what’s even more terrifying is that he said if we stayed down there long enough, eventually we would become temporarily blind because we weren’t using our sense of sight.

Now here’s the fun part, and I had no idea this was a thing.  But he said that actually if you take your hands and rub them together like this really fast, eventually the static friction between your hands would create a warm blue glow.

After about a minute of everyone furiously rubbing their palms together, he cracked and said, I’m just kidding.  That’s not true.

Then he said, “Let me show you something that is infinitely true.  He said, “no matter how dark it may be, even in 100%, complete darkness, the light of a single flame can illumine an entire room.  A single flame has the power to overcome and dispel the darkness.” He struck a lighter, and instantly we were able to once again see our own hand, our neighbor.  And after enough time, we could see across the room.”

A single flame has the power to overcome and dispel the darkness.  Even in complete, oppressive darkness, a single flame gave us vision, direction, and hope.

That is Epiphany.  That is the manifestation of Christ to the whole world.  That’s the power of God incarnate, born to the world to live, breath, reign, and rule as a king of kings, a lord of lords, and wonderful counselor, and a mighty prince of peace.  Christ as the Messiah, Emmanuel - God with us.

A single flame ignited in the dark to drive away the darkness.  To overcome sin, death, and the devil. To dispel the oppressive darkness in the world.

The celebration of Epiphany is a celebration that the light of Christ shines in the darkness and the darkness does not, cannot, and will not ever overcome it.  It is a celebration that God has become incarnate and taken on life for the sake of the whole world. All people. All nations. All Races. From the shepherds of the fields watching their sheep by night to wisemen in the East.  

Every year on Epiphany we hear this story from Matthew.  The story of wise men from the East, journeying to Bethlehem, guided only by a star, to see the child that has been born king of the Jews.  

Tradition has romanticized this story.  We have grown to appreciate the sentimentality of three wise men bringing three gifts worthy of a king.  Tradition has gone so far to name these three wise men and predict their origin. Melchior, Caspar, and Balthazar.  

The reality is, we don’t know how many wise men there were or even exactly where they came from.  All we know is that they were born into a priestly lineage within a religion that valued the reading of stars.  They were astrologists, reading the sky. And their place within scripture is recognized on Epiphany to celebrate the reach and breadth of the message of God with us in the birth of Christ.  The story of the wise men marks the overwhelming inclusiveness of God’s love and salvation through Jesus. From the shepherds of the field to the wise men in the east.

Through Christmas and Epiphany, we celebrate and remember that God’s promised Messiah is for all people.  God’s love incarnate in the world to live, breathe, and save is for all peoples. All places. All nations.  All races.

That the light of Christ has been born among us to ignite the world with a promise of everlasting love, peace, grace, and above all, hope.  The love of God shines in the darkness, revealing the way for all people, restoring hope to all nations.

But I think there is another important story to be told on this day of Epiphany.  The text tells us that “When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; ⁴ and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born…

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. ⁸ Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.

“So that I may also go and pay him homage.”  Let’s be clear that homage in this case does not mean public honor and respect.  King Herod’s motives are not out of admiration or mutual respect. Herod, frightened and worried, wanted to find the new born king of the Jews because he was threatened.  

He knew good and well, not only of the prophecy of a Messiah born from the lineage of David, but he knew that he was not that king.  He was not of the prophesied lineage and therefore not the king of kings. And some day, if prophecies were fulfilled, his reign as king might be usurped.  

And let’s remember that shortly after Jesus is born, Joseph, Mary, and the new born king of the Jews flee to Egypt as refugees because King Herod out of fear and terror orders all children 2 and under to be killed in and around Bethlehem.   An entire generation of children killed because Herod feared his power was at risk.

On this day of Epiphany, we celebrate the light of Christ shining in the darkness...giving way to vision, direction, and hope.  Revealing the way for all people. Epiphany calls us to proclaim this message of hope. To remind the world that even in the darkest situations, the light of Christ, a single flame, has the power to overcome and dispel all darkness.

But I think there is another power to this light.  The brighter the light shines, the more it is reflected, the stronger it burns and the more it unveils.   

In our new house Sarah and I have hardwood floors throughout the entire house.  And many of you know that we have a dog. A husky. A very hairy husky. He sheds like it’s his job and hobby. And for the most part you don’t notice the dog hair all over the floor.

But when I pull out the vacuum, plug it in, and turn it on...there is a small light on the front of the vacuum cleaner and it just illuminates every single strand of dog hair.  The way the light hits the hardwood at such a low angle….1000s of hairs that were previously unseen become ever so present.

That’s the power of the light of Christ. The light of love, truth, justice, grace, forgiveness, and peace.   

It burns to shed a light on the fractures and cracks of society.  Light to illumine darkness and unveil injustice. Light to convict wrongdoing, and false witness.

Light shines not only to the lowest, least, and last among us, like shepherds in the field watching their flock by night, empowering a renewed sense of hope and promise.  

But the light also shines to reveal the brokenness of creation...so the mighty and self-righteous might be cast from their thrones.  

If the light of a single flame can illuminate a single room, giving way to vision and hope then how much more powerful can the promise of God in the Emmanuel burn with each of us. Empowering the body of Christ to burn as a beacon of hope, casting truth in the face of fear, hate, and terror.  

That is Epiphany. God’s fulfilled promise to be among us.  As the Messiah. To clothe the downtrodden, faint of heart, discarded, and hopeless in the light of love, truth, grace, and hope…

To expose and convict the brokenness of the world.  Even to the point of death.

Friends, there is no doubt that we continue to live in a dark, broken world.  The cracks run deep and there is so much darkness….so much oppressiveness, sin, injustice, hate, fear, terror, and brokenness that needs to be illuminated.

But let me tell you something that is infinitely true.  The light of Christ still shines this day. In all places.  For all people. In all nations. For all races. And At all times.  The light of Christ shines and it cannot, and will not ever by extinguished.  Especially by darkness. There is nothing we can do about that…. except perhaps fan the flame, reflect the light, and proclaim the good news...until all the brokenness of the world is unveiled, and brought forth to repent, believe, and be made whole.

That is the invitation and power of Epiphany.    Amen.