Called to Love (A sermon from Ephesians 4:1-16)
Paul, or someone within the Pauline
tradition, begins this part of the letter begging his readers to live up to
their calling. If Paul didn’t write this, whoever did is someone who reflects
Paul’s passion. He once again emphasizes that our calling from God is about
unity. It is about living as one people. He calls upon his readers to make every effort to keep the unity of the
Spirit in the bond of peace. Let me remind you, in case you have forgotten or
wasn’t hear the Sunday I emphasized this, the unity this writer is talking
about is not just the unity of the local church. Nor is it just about the unity
of the universal church. It is a unity that includes everything and everyone on
earth and in heaven. The writer laid this out in his opening words, namely,
that God’s purpose, that has now been definitively revealed through Christ, is
that all things on earth and in heaven will be gathered up, unified, brought
together, made one in Christ. To say that all things are brought together in
Christ is to say that all things are brought together in love, because Christ
is love. The living Christ stands for and represents love incarnate. Christ is
the Christian term for the divine love that pulsates though out the universe.
I love the story that I have shared a few times before that author and pastor Philip Gulley has shared about a time when he was much younger and called to pastor a small urban congregation in Indianapolis. The congregation was extremely caring and compassionate, taking on the demeanor of their two most active members, Lyman and Harriet Combs. When Gulley came to know the couple they were retired and had devoted their remaining years to caring for others. Lyman volunteered amost every day at a homeless shelter, and Harriet made it her practice to be available to anyone in need. She babysat, transported the elderly to their appointments, tended the sick, visited the lonely, and did so with such joy and good humor that being in her presence was an uplifting and inspiring experience.
I love the story that I have shared a few times before that author and pastor Philip Gulley has shared about a time when he was much younger and called to pastor a small urban congregation in Indianapolis. The congregation was extremely caring and compassionate, taking on the demeanor of their two most active members, Lyman and Harriet Combs. When Gulley came to know the couple they were retired and had devoted their remaining years to caring for others. Lyman volunteered amost every day at a homeless shelter, and Harriet made it her practice to be available to anyone in need. She babysat, transported the elderly to their appointments, tended the sick, visited the lonely, and did so with such joy and good humor that being in her presence was an uplifting and inspiring experience.
What bothered Gulley, though, as a young
minister was the church’s seeming indifference to numerical growth. He wanted
to build the institution. One day when Gulley was particularly frustrated he
asked Harriet why that was so. She said, “I guess it was never our goal to have
a large church.” Well, that was not what he was wanting to hear as a young,
ambitious minister. So he asked Harriet, “Then why are we here?” Smiling, she
said, “To love.” Gulley says that while he was busy
trying to attract the right kind of people – families with children, the
influential, the gifted, financial donors, people who could grow the
institution – Harriet was busy caring for those in need, never judging, never
trying to gauge their worth, just accepting and loving them.
I will tell you, as pastor of this
church, I care about the institution. And some of that, I will admit, is ego
and self-preservation – because after all, my vocation and livelihood is tied
to the institution. I will certainly not pretend that is not important to me. I
want our church as an institution to thrive. There are better reasons, though,
for the institution to thrive. I hope you give generously to the institution.
Because the more you give, the more ministry and service in the community we
can do. We want to be able to send our young people to camp. We want to be able
to support our ministries here and support missions abroad. We want to be able
to keep up our facilities in good condition, not just for our own benefit, but
also for community service and use. We should all want the institution to thrive.
And if you know people who have given up
on church because of what most churches believe and practice these days, then
tell them about our church, because we are certainly not like most churches are
we. They might find a home here.
But as much as I want the institution to
thrive, and hopefully you want this as much as I do, we can’t lose focus about
what our primary task is – and that is, to love. There is a lot about the
church as an institution that we cannot completely control. But we all can
love. In his prayer in chapter 3 of this letter the writer prays: I pray that
you may have the power to comprehend (that is, understand), with all the
saints, what is the breath and length and height and depth, and to know (that
is, to experience) the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge.” Then, says the
writer, you will “be filled with all the fullness of God.” Because God is love.
When we are filled with love, we are filled with God. Our vision statement as a
church is a simple one: To experience and express God’s unconditional love. The
unity, the common good, the oneness that the living Christ wants for all
creation will only be brought about through love.
I would like to hightlight three ways
that our writer says is critical to this process of living out our calling to love
and to bring everyone together in Christ.
First, we must bear with one another in love. And the way we do that, says
our biblical writer, is by relating to
one another with humility and gentleness and patience. Some people need
time, and we can’t force them to grow when they are not ready to grow. It’s
taken me a long time to learn this, but I think I understand now.
Nikos Kazantzakis, author of Zorba the
Greek, once wrote about a time when he came upon a cocoon nestled in an olive
tree. The infant butterfly was just starting to break through when Kazantzakis
decided to shorten the natural process. He moved up real close and breathed on
it. The warmth of his breath caused the butterfly to prematurely emerge from
the cacoon, and when it did its wings were not adequately formed. So, unable to
fly, it struggled and died. The young Kazantzakis learned a lesson that day. He
had impatiently intervened and interrupted a process that he did not fully
understand, and as a result of his intervention, he prevented life from fully
forming, and did great harm to a living thing. I wish I had learned that lesson
at the age when he learned that lesson.
Sometimes sisters and brothers we just
have to back off, be patient, and wait. Sometimes we have to give people space
to develop. Our part is to let them know we love them and care about them, but
they have to work through their stuff. We can’t force them to become what they
are not ready to become.
Now, this brings me to the second way we live out our calling to love,
which is going to seem like a contradiction to what I just said. Everything
depends on context. Situations are different. There are times when we wait too
long, or times when we wait, when we should be speaking and acting and doing.
There is a time to wait and be patient, and a time to act. There is a time to
be silent, and a time to speak. There is
a time to speak the truth in love.
When it comes to the big social and
restorative justice issues of our time, now is not the time to wait. We live in
a democracy, at least for now, and it is our responsibility to speak up. How
can a follower of Jesus not be angry and outspoken about the way our government
is treating refugees? I read the other day that some children may never be reunited
with their parents. We are complicit in that injustice, because these are our
elected representatives who are letting this happen. People who have come here fleeing
violence and danger, looking for a safe place to live, we are treating as
criminals. If we love God, and care about what is right and good and just, if
we care about the well-being of our country, and if have just a little of the compassion of Jesus,
how can we not speak up and speak out, and not confront this injustice.
Now here’s the catch. Speaking the truth
in love, I believe, means taking on the demonic policy and practice, without
demonizing the people who support it. And that, sisters and brothers, is a
delicate undertaking. Everyone who is committed to speaking truth in love
struggles with this. Just as humility is important in bearing with others
patiently and in longsuffering, so humility is just as important when we speak
the truth in love. In love we confront the unjust and demonic policies, without
demonizing and treating unjustly those who enforce and support those demonic
policies. This is where prayer is so important, because prayer helps us to attend to our own inner life and keep our ego
in check.
So, we live out our calling to love, to
bring all things together in Christ, by bearing with one another in humility,
gentleness, and patience. And by speaking the truth in love. The third way our biblical text emphasizes,
is by using our gifts and abilities to work for the common good. When it
comes to specific beliefs about God or anything else, we will never have unity.
That’s not the unity we should be striving for. The unity in Christ that we should be striving for is a unity in love,
where we work together for the common good, whether that common good is for our
families, our church, our community, our country, or our world.
Serving one another and our larger
society for the common good has the potential to bring us together like nothing
else. The newscaster Charles Kuralt, tells a beautiful story in his book A Life on the Road. It was the spring
that Martin Luther King, Jr. was killed and several American cites erupted in
flames. In June, Robert Kennedy was murdered. Kuralt had known them both. He was
feeling depressed about the future of the country, as some of us are today.
Then, in July, in Reno, Nevada, he ran across a woman named Pat Shannon Baker. Pat
was a young white woman, the mother of three children. The night Martin Luther
King, Jr. was killed, she sat up late thinking she had to do something. But
what could she do? She remembered a vacant lot she passed every day in the
city. It would make a nice park, she thought. She went to see her councilman,
who talked about their strained budget and the difficulty of passing a bond
issue. So Pat Baker went to see people in the African-American community around
the lot, and she went to see garden supply companies and cement companies and
the heads of construction and contracting companies. Pretty soon, her idea was
their idea too.
At seven-thirty on a Friday morning, a
time when many Reno
residents had not yet stirred from their houses, a crowd began gathering on
that vacant lot. By eight-thirty, 2,000 tons of topsoil was being spread by
front-end loaders operated by heavy-equipment operators not used to working for
free. Kuralt stood and watched them. He could hardly believe his eyes. He
watched a school custodian, a roofer, a garage mechanic and an unemployed
teenager digging a ditch together. A junior high school boy assigned to saw
two-by-fours to serve as cement forms sawed all day in the hot sun as if his
life depended on it. A little girl carried water to the workers. Some
Coastguardsmen, Marines and Seabees came by and helped. By noon, cement was
laid for a double tennis court. A basketball court had been made by the time
the sun went down. Dozens of people worked through the night.
On Saturday morning, a crowd of several
hundred people showed up for work, black and white, young and old. An eighty-four
year old man who came to watch spent the entire afternoon helping to plant
trees. By Saturday night, the lawn had been sown, and on Sunday morning a
sprinkler system was turned on. By Sunday afternoon, the park was finished,
complete with walks and benches and trees and playing courts and grass. They
named it the Pat Baker Park and asked her if she would like to say something.
She said, “This was a great, big, black and white thing.” Kuralt went back
twenty years later. He said the grass was neatly trimmed and the trees had
grown tall and leafy. People were sitting on the park benches in the shade of
the trees. Kids were playing on the basketball court. He thought back to the
weekend the park was built. He remembered an elderly African-American, leaning
on his shovel, looking around at what they had done and said that this was the
best thing that ever happened since he had come to Reno . Not just the park itself. That was good, but he was talking about the building of it. The coming together
for the common good.
I guess there is one belief we have to share if we ever hope to come together in
unity. We have to believe in love – the kind of love that we see incarnate
in Jesus of Nazareth, who for us is the Christ. Perhaps this is how we should
understand the biblical writer when he mentions one faith and one baptism. We
must share a living trust in the transforming power of love and be immersed in
such love. We have to believe that loving one another and building up one
another is what we are called to do. And if we believe that, then we will want
to patiently and gently and humbly bear with one another. If we believe we are
called to love all people, then we will refuse to be silent in the midst of
injustice. We will speak the truth and not be deterred by deceptive and
deceitful religious and partisan arguments. And we will do something. We will use
our gifts and time and abilities and energies to work for the common good in
our families, our church, our community, our country, and our world.
O God, I pray, like our biblical writer,
that we may all come to understand just how big – how wide and deep – is your
love for all of us. And more than understand, I pray that we might experience
this love first hand so that it takes root deep in our hearts and souls. So
that we might be committed to your plan for the world. So that we might do what
we can do – in bearing with one another, in speaking your truth, and in working
together to see our families and our church and our community and our world
come together as one people. Inspire us and empower us to be instruments of
your peace and channels of your love. Amen.
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