Sunday, August 26, 2012

No Conditions


The Sermon Study Guide is here.

1 Corinthians 13; John 15:9-17
August 26, 2012 • Portage First UMC

“Love is all you need.” “Love makes the world go ‘round.” “Love is a many-splendored thing.” “To know me is to love me.” “Stop in the name of love.” “What’s love got to do with it?” Over and over again, one theme keeps coming up in American music and pop culture: love. But what we mean by it varies depending on the situation and circumstances. This past month, we’ve been looking at that word “love,” a word that is pretty much all-inclusive in the English language. However, in the New Testament world, we’ve been discovering, there were four primary words for “love,” each word describing a different expression or experience of that emotion. “Storge” refers to family love, and family is where we normally first experience what love is. “Philos” refers to friendship love, those people outside of our family whom we have a connection to, for whom we would do most anything. And “eros” refers to marital love, expressed as a life-long covenant between a husband and wife. And we would tend to think that covers the gamut. Those three words pretty much sum up all the real love we experience. And yet, the New Testament world has another word for love: the word “agape.” Now, before Paul and the other New Testament writers came along, this word wasn’t used all that much. It had the meaning of “inclining toward” something until Paul and the other writers took it and filled it with new meaning (Bailey, Paul Through Mediterranean Eyes, pg. 349). “Agape” came to represent the kind of love God has for us, supremely seen in Jesus. And so this morning, as we explore this powerful word, we’re going to first look at how Jesus defined it and then turn to one of the most well-known descriptions of “agape.”

On the last night Jesus spent with his disciples, he took a walk with them during which he shared the most important things on his heart. If these words sound familiar, it’s because we keep circling back to this passage; these teachings of Jesus are fundamental to our faith. When you know you’re going to die, you don’t waste time talking about unimportant things. And so Jesus comes back to this theme he’s talked about before: “My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you” (15:12). Agape each other, Jesus says, just as I have “agaped” you. And then he goes on to say something they probably didn’t understand that night, because it hadn’t happened yet. Jesus goes on to describe the ultimate way he will love them, by giving his life for them, by dying in their place, by taking the punishment for their (and our) sin. “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (15:13). There is no higher expression of love than to give away what is most precious to you for the sake of someone else. Jesus is the supreme example of agape, and he is the standard by which our agape toward others is measured (cf. Tenney, “The Gospel of John,” Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Vol. 9, pg. 153). In fact, John, the writer of this Gospel, later reflected on this walk with Jesus and he wrote about it in one of his letters: “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters” (1 John 3:16). 

THIS is how we know what love is, John says. The standard is Jesus. The standard is not the latest break-ups and make-ups by the celebrities that are detailed on the news and in our newspapers. The standard is not the latest popular brand of anything. The standard is not our culture and its changing tastes for what is “hot” and what is “not.” The standard is not even the sort of love you experienced or didn’t experience when you were growing up. The standard is Jesus. He is the one who commands us to love (agape), and he is the one who has done everything love can do by giving his life on the cross (Wright, John for Everyone, Part Two, pg. 74).

So in this short passage, Jesus tells us several things about agape. First of all, it’s a command. It’s not a request or a suggestion. Living agape toward each other is a command Jesus gives us. Second, he himself demonstrates what it looks like. Agape is living like Jesus, giving ourselves away for the sake of the other. Third, agape is what we’re supposed to show toward each other. Sometimes, even as we celebrate the great love God has for us, the love God showed to us in Jesus, we forget to love each other, to love those around us. It’s easy to love those who are like us, or those we like, or those who make us laugh, or those who entertain us. But what about those folks who grate on our nerves? What about those who annoy us, who rub us the wrong way? What about those who have tried to hurt us? This same Jesus told his followers, way back at the beginning of his ministry, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven…If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that?” (Matthew 5:44-46). Guess what word he uses there? Agape. Agape your enemies. Love them as you would those who are nice to you. So agape is not something we earn; it’s something offered to us with no conditions. We can’t earn it. Agape”is also not something we conjure up on our own. Jesus sets this as the model: “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you” (15:9). The Father has “agaped” Jesus, Jesus has “agaped” us, and in that same power, we “agape” other people. We give away what God has already given us, because “agape” is the way God loves us. Unconditionally, no strings attached, God loves you and God loves me just because we are. Now, I want to come back to that fact in just a few moments, but for this moment, realize that when Jesus says, “Love one another,” and he gives it as a command, he’s not expecting us to do it in our own power, but in his. “We love because he first loved us” (1 John 4:19).

So, what does agape look like? If we were to describe it, how would we do so? To answer that question, we want to turn to one of the most famous passages in all of Scripture, the 13th chapter of 1 Corinthians. Now, a lot of people wouldn’t recognize the reference, but most would recognize the words because it’s read very frequently at weddings. And while its words certainly can apply to marriages, the goal Paul has in this chapter is much larger. 1 Corinthians 13 is part of a larger section in this letter in which Paul is explaining to the Corinthians that they all have a part to play in the body of Christ, the church, and rather than competing with each other or treating each other with envy and jealousy because someone else has a gift you don’t have, you should instead spend your time growing in love together. The situation in Corinth would be similar to me spending all my time envying the talent ___ has rather than using the gifts and abilities I have. Paul says, “You are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it” (12:27). So, in essence, knock it off. Stop treating each other badly and start living like you’re Christians. Let me show you, he says, a better way to live (12:31). And then he launches into this beautiful description of agape.

The whole chapter has much to say to us, but for the sake of time this morning, I want to focus on verses 4-8, where Paul gives very specific characteristics of agape. First of all, love is patient (13:4). Literally, he says, love puts anger far away (Bailey 367). When we picture patience, we think maybe of counting to ten before we blow our stack, or of putting up with someone’s quirks even though it really annoys us. Paul has something much more active in mind. A person who loves—who exhibits agape—could retaliate against someone who has hurt or injured or spoken ill of them, but chooses not to. They choose to put their anger far away in order to live agape. It’s the person who is slandered and could go slander the other person, but chooses not to, chooses to trust that love is more powerful than evil, than hate. That person “puts anger off” and lives with integrity even when they are being spoken against. That leads to the next characteristicx: love is kind. Again, we picture something rather tame here, but Paul’s choice of words has the meaning of extinguishing the flame of anger with soothing and comforting words. It’s meeting fire with water. It’s meeting a wound with salve. Like patience, kindness is returning good for evil.

Paul then begins a list of what agape is not. Love does not envy, or we can also say it is not jealous. This was one of the Corinthians’ problems, one Paul addresses early on in the letter: “You are still worldly. For since there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not worldly? Are you not acting like mere humans?” (3:3). Love rejoices when the other person wins, when they are promoted, when they are honored. We’ve already touched on this, but because it was such a problem for this church, Paul reminds them: agape is not envious of what the other person has. Nor is it boastful. There is a fine line, isn’t there, between being proud of a job well done (healthy pride) and boasting. Boasting usually comes out of a poor self-image, a low self-esteem. We don’t really like ourselves all that well, but we find ways to try to build ourselves up (and hopefully get others to agree) by either speaking about ourselves all the time or speaking about our children, or our job accomplishments or whatever. It’s a form of manipulation. If I convince you I’m wonderful, perhaps you will agree and then, at least for a moment, I can feel better about myself. Love does not need to boast, nor does it try to control others through flattery. An agape person knows they are loved by God, and that is enough. There is no need to boast.

Love is also not proud, Paul says, or you might translate that as love is not arrogant. “Someone has said that an ‘expert’ is the person who has all the answers and has stopped listening” (Bailey 369). We’ve all known people like that, haven’t we? Perhaps, though this may be harder to admit, we’ve even been people like that. This word Paul uses has to do with “inflating something,” which is why the King James says “love is not puffed up.” Arrogance tends to tear others down, which is why it has nothing to do with love. Neither does dishonoring others (13:5), or being rude (as one translation has it). The old King James here says love does “not behave itself unseemly.” It literally means “without good order.” It’s all those things your parents told you not to do because they are rude. I put a question out on Facebook, asking you what “rude” means, and here are some of those things: “When someone asks a personal question about something they don’t need to know about.” “Acting and speaking without considering the feelings of others.” “Ignoring someone even when they speak to you” or “they look at you like you’re cursed.” Thoughtlessness, inconsideration, self-centeredness. Or it’s the guy whom I didn’t know who tried to start a political argument with me this week, then called me all sorts of names when I wouldn’t play. We could undoubtedly go on and on, but you get the idea. Love is not those things. Love is not rude.

Love is also not self-seeking. It does not demand its own way or seek its own advantage. Really, Paul is saying that love—agape—doesn’t act like a child, because children are always insisting that they need, deserve, want what they want and they want it when? Now. When we experience agape, we have to realize the world does not revolve around me, myself and I. This has to do with justice, with caring for the needs of those around us. It has to do with seeking fair treatment for others, making sure all are fed, all have a place to live, and so on. We find that difficult to grasp these days. One of the most popular books of the last few years that was made into a blockbuster movie this past year is The Hunger Games, and when I saw the movie, I couldn’t help but think how much it reflects our time. In the story, twelve teenagers are pitted against each other and only one can survive. Now, the story takes a twist at the end that comes close to agape love, but for the most part, the society exists on seeking its own advantage, and the teenagers are taught that because that’s how they are going to survive. In the end, when there is talk of sacrifice and giving up one’s own needs for someone else, it’s shocking to that culture, and I think it is in our culture, too. Love is not self-seeking. Agape seeks the good of others, of all.

And love is not easily angered. It’s not irritable. It’s not touchy. It doesn’t fly off the handle at the smallest offense. In many ways, this ties into what Paul has said earlier about patience. Proverbs 15 reminds us, “A gentle answer turns away wrath” (15:1). Agape chooses the gentle answer. Agape hangs onto its self-control. One scholar describes it this way: love “is willing to absorb hostility out of love for the other, knowing that by absorbing it, that hostility can fade away” (Bailey 371). Add to that Paul’s next word: love “keeps no record of wrongs.” The word Paul uses comes from the world of accounting, where we keep endless records of debts and payments, making sure everything balances. And while that’s important in accounting, in the life of love it’s deadly. Yet, we do it, we keep our records of wrong, even though we know it kills us. We hang onto those hurts and those slights (real or perceived) and those wounds—we keep nursing the grudge and “picking the scab.” Paul knew about hurts. In his other letter to the Corinthians, he reminds them he was imprisoned, flogged, beaten nearly to death, constantly in danger from his own people the Jews as well as from Gentiles, wrongly accused by false believers. He had gone without food, without water, without clothing at times (2 Corinthians 11:23-27). And yet, he chooses to keep on sharing Jesus with anyone who will listen, even those who imprison or threaten him because he knows agape keeps a short list. Love allows the past to remain in the past, which means, also, that love forgives, for the sake of our own health. One report says 75% of all doctor visits today are stress-related. We’re killing ourselves by hanging on to the past and failing to truly love.

Then, Paul says, “Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth” (13:6). Elsewhere in the letter, Paul brings the Corinthians to task for something happening in their midst: “A man is sleeping with his father’s wife. And you are proud!” (15:1-2) Paul says. They were “delighting in evil,” something love does not do. And we need to ask of our own day: do we delight in evil? Why are there so many tabloids and television shows that deal with rumor and suspicion? I mean, someone’s watching them, right? Why are there so many talk shows that deal with DNA testing and paternity and family crises that we air for all to see? Someone’s watching them. Why is pornography such a huge business? Because 43% of internet users admit to viewing it, and one out of three of those is a woman. “Sex” and “porn” are among the top five search terms for kids under 18. The United States spends annually $13.6 billion on porn, and 35% of all internet downloads are pornographic. How many people could be fed for $13.6 billion? How many clean water wells could be dug for that money? Don’t tell me we don’t delight in evil; the signs and the actions are all around us. The question is how are we going to turn the corner to rejoicing in the truth? Because that’s what love does.

Then, in verse 7, Paul uses four words that build to a crescendo: “Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” “Protects” is a word that refers to waterproofing. It could mean “roof,” and a good roof protects the people inside from the rain. A person of agape protects those entrusted to him or her. Agape installs filters on the computer, and loves people enough to set boundaries. You see, none of this is a license to do whatever we want. Love is not about just doing anything. Love sets boundaries inside of which life can be experienced to the fullest. We do this with our children. Don’t leave the yard. Don’t cross the street. Don’t touch the hot stove. And yet, when we become adults, we want to get rid of all the rules—or at least the rules we don’t like. We want to pick and choose which of God’s directions we will follow and which ones we won’t. We’re okay with that “do not murder” thing, but really, is coveting a big deal anymore? Love loves us enough to set boundaries for our own good, for our own protection. Now, the other end of the spectrum is when the rules become all-important. That’s  the problem of the Pharisees and modern-day legalists. The rules become the religion. Christian faith is about a relationship in which we want to live in a certain way not because of the rules but because we want to please our beloved, Jesus the Savior. Love is not an excuse for “anything goes” because love protects; love wants the best life possible for us. As I’ve said frequently before, God loves us enough to accept us as we are and he loves us too much to leave us as we are. Love always protects.

And love always trusts, or always believes. This has to do with experiencing God’s love—we trust it has been poured out onto us so that we can share it with others. We believe what God has said about us, about his love for us, and about the way Jesus showed that love on the cross. The whole story of the Bible is the story of God loving humanity and us rejecting that love, even running away from it at times. And God keeps loving, and calling us back, calling us to live better because of his love. The same theme is found in the next characteristic: “love always hopes.” Love always waits for the salvation found in Jesus. Way back in the Old Testament, waiting for God’s salvation was a good thing. Lamentations says, “It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord” (3:26). For the Christian, we find our hope in Jesus. It’s far more than, “I hope it doesn’t rain today.” It’s more like this: “The mystery in a nutshell is just this: Christ is in you, so therefore you can look forward to sharing in God's glory” (Colossians 1:27, Message). Love always hopes, and then, Paul says, love always perseveres. The word literally means “to remain under.” It means staying steadfast even when things get tough—enduring suffering as Jesus did on the cross, remaining faithful even when we don’t understand. We’ve had a lot of things happening lately around here, sicknesses, deaths, tragedies that are hard to explain. They’re impossible to explain. And yet God’s love is the one thing that has never wavered no matter what has happened. That agape love, given to us, helps us stand even when we feel like falling. Love always perseveres (Bailey 366-378).

And it can do so because love never fails (13:8). Actually, literally, he says, “love never falls” (Bailey 379-380). The image is of a mountain road where there is constantly the danger of falling over the edge. When we were in the Holy Land, we did a lot of walking, hiking. A lot of hiking. And one of the places we went was Mount Arbel, which overlooks the Sea of Galilee. There’s no indication that Jesus necessarily was on that mountain, but it might be one of the “lonely places” he withdrew to for prayer and solitude. Certainly, the view could be enough to move you toward prayer and praise. But the point here is this: when we were up there, there are no handrails or guardrails like we put all over our natural landmarks in America. And so, loving each other enough to protect each other, we were constantly advising other people in our group to be careful, to watch out, to not fall. Good advice! But Paul uses that image of a dangerous mountain pass or peak here to describe love—that no matter what is going on around it, love will not fall. Love is surefooted. Love will not disappear over the edge. Even when you feel like you’re falling, love will not and will not let you fall. Love never fails. Agape love—God’s love—never fails.

And I’m so very thankful for that, because there have been many times in my life when I felt like I was going over the edge. There have been times when I have felt very unloveable. There have been times when I felt like I have let God down. I’ve not loved others in the way that Paul describes and Jesus commands. Sometimes in our communion service, we pray that prayer: “Merciful God, we confess that we have not loved you with our whole heart…we have rebelled against your love, we have not loved our neighbors, and we have not heard the cry of the needy. Forgive us, we pray” (UMH 8). And when we pray that, my heart knows how true that is of me. And then come the next words: “In the name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven!” Love—God’s agape love—never fails. It never leaves me, even when I feel unworthy. In fact, I think, it’s in those times when I feel most unworthy that God’s love becomes most real to me. You see, this description of love, all these things Paul has said, sound like a ridiculous standard and crazy actions to most of the world around us. Maybe even some of us are saying, “Well, that’s a nice goal, but I’ll never attain it” (cf. Wright, Paul for Everyone: 1 Corinthians, 172). But we don’t have to attain it. We just have to accept it. And when we allow God’s agape love to flood through our lives and hearts, to shape what we say and do, all of those other sorts of love—storge, phileo and eros—fall into place. None of them work without agape. We can’t truly love until we have allowed ourselves to be loved by God—no conditions, no strings attached, loved just because we are, and loved enough to be shaped into loving people. The great theologian Karl Barth, after writing many volumes of Biblical teaching, was once asked how he would sum it all up, and he responded very simply: “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”

So…how will you respond to God’s agape love? How will you live into this “no condition” love? There may be some here this morning who have never allowed that love to touch your life. It’s as simple as a prayer, as telling Jesus you’re sorry for your sin (the ways you’ve lived outside God’s boundaries) and you want him to be part of your life. If you’ve never experienced God’s agape love, why not today? He will respond to the simplest prayer. But I’ll tell you up front: once you ask for that love in your life, he commands us to live like Jesus, to love like Jesus, to love each other and all those around us. “This is my command,” Jesus says, “Agape each other” (15:17). When we allow Jesus and his unconditional love to take over our lives, it’s not so we’ll feel better about ourselves. It’s so we can, in turn, love those around us with that same agape love. Only agape love will turn the world around. So do you know that love? Have you accepted it in your life?

You know, as I said, I frequently preach on the 1 Corinthians passage at weddings, and often I take this passage and put the couple’s names in the place of “agape.” So this morning, as we go to prayer, I’m going to ask you to do that. I’m going to read this passage, and every time I come to the word “love,” I’m going to pause and ask you to say your name out loud. Yes, it might sound a bit confusing as we hear all sorts of names, but you can handle it, I’m confident! What I want us to hear, as we pray, though, is the model, the goal Jesus has for us, as we learn to experience his agape and share it with others. And if these things aren’t true for you yet, ask Jesus to continue to work in your life so that they become true. Let’s pray this passage, and remember to insert your name when I pause. Actually, we’ll start with your name.

____ is patient, ____ is kind. ____ does not envy, ____ does not boast, ____ is not proud. ____ does not dishonor others, ____ is not self-seeking, ____ is not easily angered, ____ keeps no record of wrongs. ____ does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ____ always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. ____ never fails (13:4-8a).

Hear this word and believe this promise: “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6). That’s good news! Amen.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Pause


Luke 5:12-16
August 25, 2012 • PF Hope

Sometimes, you just have to get away. In the summer of 1989, Cathy and I worked in the inner city of Chicago, on the west side, in the Austin community. And it was hard work, seeking to share the love of Christ with people who didn’t really care a lot of the time. We worked with a day camp, and most of the parents didn’t care where their kids were, as long as they didn’t have to worry about them. But we pushed on, and in many ways shared Jesus’ love with those kids, believing that if the kids came to know Jesus, they’d bring their parents to the church as well. So there was the daily work, and there were also the pressures that built up among the team. There were ten of us living in a four-room apartment—three men, seven women, and the only air conditioning in the apartment was in the girls’ dorm room. The men made do with fans during one of the hottest summers on record (perhaps until this year). And one day, I’d had enough. I didn’t realize it until some of my supplies came up missing and, really for no good reason, I lost it. I went off on the person who took my supplies, and then I stormed out of the building, got in my car and started driving. I didn’t even know where I was going. I just headed west. And once I had run out of steam, I stopped, bought a candy bar, and drove back. Sometimes you just need to get away. Sometimes you just need to have a bit of a rest in order to begin again. Sometimes you need a pause.

Of course, from the beginning, we’re told we need those breaks. We don’t listen well, especially today when our culture insists we have to work 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. I mean, really, does anyone seriously NEED to shop at Wal-Mart at 3:00 a.m.? And yet, they’re open. To have a grocery store or a restaurant closed on Sunday seems odd to us. But we were not meant to live that way. Enshrined in the Ten Commandments, God’s basic instructions for life, is this command: “Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord. On it you shall not do any work” (Exodus 20:9-10). Sabbath is another word for “pause.” Stop. Cease. Don’t do any work. Allow your body and your soul to rest. Humans were made for a rhythm of six days of work and one day of rest, but we, of course, have done God one better. We now work seven days and often feel guilty if we rest, if we pause. Soldier on, keep going, don’t stop—that’s the message we get from our culture, and sometimes from each other.

And yet Jesus, the Son of God, didn’t live like we do. Jesus, who only had about three years to accomplish the ministry he came to do, took the command to rest seriously. We see that in the Gospel passage we read this evening. It’s a busy time in his ministry. He’s just called his first disciples to follow him, and now he finds himself confronted with a leper. Lepers in Biblical times were outcasts. They were kept outside of town, as commanded in the Old Testament, and if anyone approached them, they were to call out “Unclean!” No one wanted them around, because leprosy was highly contagious and there was no cure. One scholar put it this way: “To the rabbis the cure of a leper was as difficult as raising a person from the dead” (Marshall qtd. in Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels, pg. 463). However, it was expected that one of the signs of the arrival of the Messiah would be the healing or cleansing of lepers. So this leper, who perhaps has heard about Jesus and has heard the whispers that he might just be the one, the savior, the Messiah, calls out to Jesus when he sees him passing by. Luke says the man fell on his face and begged Jesus for healing: “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean” (5:12). And Jesus does what no one was supposed to do, what hadn’t been done to this man since the day he was diagnosed with leprosy. Jesus touched him. Jesus reached out, across the distance that separated them, and he put his hand on the man. Think about that for a moment. Leprosy patients could live as long as twenty years with the disease (ZPEB, Vol. 2, pg. 139), so depending on how far along he was in his leprosy, it could have been a very, very long time since anyone has touched him. They say that one of the most isolating parts of being in the hospital or being in a nursing home or even just living alone is that no one touches you. There is great healing power in human touch, in knowing you are connected to someone else. This man had been isolated for a long, long time, until Jesus touched him and said, “Be clean!” (5:13). “And immediately,” Luke the doctor says, “the leprosy left him.”

Before he could go back to his old life, though, there were some things he had to take care of. He needed to go to the priests and have them certify him as healed; that was a directive given in the Old Testament. So go do that, Jesus says, and don’t tell anyone else that you’ve been healed. Got that? Don’t tell anyone. And so what does the man do? He does what we would probably do. He tells someone. I imagine he tells everyone, though Luke doesn’t say that. Instead, Luke says, “The news about him spread all the more” (5:15)—him being Jesus. Of course, the former leper might have only told one person, and they told one person, and they told one person…and you know how that ends up. Pretty soon, everyone knows. So something like that happens here. And Jesus’ popularity skyrockets overnight—not because of what he was teaching, but because of the healing. People want to see the show. So Luke says, “Crowds of people came to hear him and to be healed of their sicknesses” (5:15). Crowds of people. People everywhere. People who want something from Jesus.

So what does Jesus do? Well, if we were his advisors, we’d draw up a marketing plan, get him on “Good Morning America” to talk about his ministry, make sure the evening news covers his latest speaking engagements, and be sure to highlight the fact that he can heal people. We’d take advantage of the “word of mouth” publicity, and we’d have Jesus out there seven days a week, 364 days a year (we’d probably let him have his birthday off). But that’s not what Jesus does. Luke says when the crowds grow, Jesus withdraws. In fact, he often withdraws. He goes out to the “lonely places” in order to pray (cf. Card, Luke: The Gospel of Amazement, pg. 78). The disciples don’t seem to understand that. Over in Mark’s Gospel, there is another occasion where people come to see the show, and Jesus goes off by himself, early in the morning, to a “solitary place” to pray. And, the way Mark tells it, when the disciples get up and can’t find Jesus, they go looking for him. When they do find him, up in the hills, they say, “Everyone is looking for you!” In other words, “What are you doing up here, wasting your time praying? People are waiting for you. You have obligations, responsibilities! You don’t have time to pray!” And do you know Jesus says? “Let’s go somewhere else. Not back down to the crowds. Let’s go preach somewhere else” (Mark 1:35-39). I can almost see the dumbfounded looks on the faces of the disciples. Why wouldn’t he want to dive back into the crowds, into the popularity? Why would he spend so much time praying?

There’s another occasion in Matthew 16, again at a time when large crowds are gathering. In fact, in the previous chapter, Jesus feeds 4,000 people with seven loaves of bread. And he’s argued with some of the religious leaders, so perhaps he’s just had enough. Jesus decides it’s time to get away. Far away. As far away as he can. He takes the disciples on a retreat, way up to the northern part of Israel, to a place called Caesarea Philippi. To find a more religious place in first-century Israel would have been difficult. Caesarea Philippi had altars to all the popular pagan gods. In fact, we stood there, perhaps in the place where Jesus took the disciples, this summer. There are ruins of former pagan temples, and a cave that is sometimes referred to as “The Gates of Hell.” The Temple there was dedicated to Pan, the Goat God, and all sorts of other temples stood next to it. It was a whole smorgasboard of pagan worship. So many scholars think it was here, next to these temples, that Jesus asked the disciples who they thought he was. Peter was the only brave enough to blurt out, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God” (16:16). And Jesus praises him, telling him, “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church,” and then, perhaps pointing to the pagan temples behind him, he says, “and the gates of Hades [or Hell] will not overcome it” (16:18). In other words, these pagan religions will not stand. Nothing will overcome the one who confesses Jesus as savior. But, you see, this time away, this pause in their ministry and activity and busy-ness, was exactly what the disciples needed to be able to see Jesus clearly, to know who he was and is. 

Different places, different situations, all with the same result. Jesus knew the value of a pause when things get busy, when they get out of control, when it seems as if you don’t know what to do next. And that brings us to tonight, because after tonight, we’re taking a “pause” from PF Hope, a hiatus if you will. And I want you to know this was not an easy decision. In fact, it’s a decision we’ve probably put off too long; it’s one we knew was coming. There are a lot of factors that have come together to bring us to this point, but perhaps the easiest way I can sum it up is that for the last several months, the leadership for PF Hope has been running in a spiritual survival mode. We’ve kept busy. We’ve done all the things that needed to be done. We’ve put on services. We’ve taken field trips. We’ve played music, sung songs, preached sermons, prepared food. And we’ve ignored the model Jesus set for us of pausing and resting and listening, and so now we’ve come realize there is a deep, spiritual exhaustion happening among the leadership and those who help every week to put PF Hope together. I want you to hear me clearly: I do not believe we misheard God when we began this ministry. I believe we responded in the way God would have us respond. But there have been a lot of circumstances we didn’t anticipate, a lot of things have happened that have been, honestly, out of our control, and a lot of choices made that have served to complicate the ministry here. Things have been busy, but busy-ness is not ministry. We still believe that the calling of PF Hope is to reach people who aren’t being reached in any other way with the love of Jesus. The question is: how do we do that moving forward? Because we’re not done. This is not a “stop.” This is a pause. This is a break to give the leaders, and your pastors, time to pray and reflect and rest. These next several months are meant to be a time where we tune in again to where God will lead us next in fulfilling that mission that still burns in the hearts of everyone here.

So, what is next? Well, rest. Sabbath—pausing—is first and foremost about “rest,” about renewing the heart, mind and spirit. Exodus specifically commands rest—and uses the rhythm of creation as a model. God worked in creation for six days and rested on the seventh. We’re to do the same, not in a legalistic way, but in a way that we’re able to do what God calls us to do next. Jesus took those times away so he could reconnect with his heavenly father, so that his spirit would be renewed for the next phase of his ministry. So rest is in order to combat the spiritual exhaustion that has become an ever-present companion. And coupled with that is worship. The band and others who have provided significant leadership to this ministry have been busy leading worship and haven’t really had time to worship God themselves. I know from nearly twenty years in ministry that there is a measure of worship you can do when you’re leading, but you’re also always conscious of all the things that have to happen, or what went wrong with the equipment just before you began—or any number of things. When our family is on vacation and able to worship, just worship, it’s refreshing. And so rest and worship are on the agenda for the next weeks. And while we won’t be worshipping here, we’re still going to have worship at the church building on McCool, three services on Sunday morning. The band will be helping lead worship there. Beginning in October, they will lead a worship service a month. They’re also taking responsibility for one of our Christmas candlelight services this year. So it’s my hope you’ll join us at McCool, and together we will continue to worship.

We’re also going to be renewing our focus on Jesus. Not that we’ve ever taken our focus off of Jesus. But, just like those disciples at Caesarea Philippi, sometimes we need that pause, that break to be able to see Jesus clearly again. You know how you can get so tired you can’t see clearly? That’s a sign it’s time for a rest. And then, ultimately, this time of pausing is for discernment, for listening to God in times of prayer as to what form this outreach will take next. And I invite you to be an active part of that discernment process. Spend some time over the next few months specifically asking God where he is leading us next, and when you think you hear what God is saying, let me know, let Wade know. I believe God speaks most clearly in community—in fact, this decision to take a pause was made in community. There was not one person off by himself in an office who made the decision. It was a community, a prayerful community, who wrestled and struggled and risked enough to be open and honest with each other. So let’s commit to being that for each other. Prayerful discernment is the biggest “task” of this pause, and it’s something we’re all going to have to be involved in.

So where will God lead us next? I don’t know, but I’m excited to find out. Our mission hasn’t changed. Jesus gave it to us in some of his final words to his disciples: “Go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19). Our mission as a church is to become a community where all people encounter Jesus Christ. From the depths of our being, we want everyone to know who Jesus is. We’re as convinced as we ever have been that this is our calling, that this sort of outreach is our ministry, and that God is still leading us down this road. What the road looks like, exactly, isn’t known yet, but I know this: when it does become clear, we’ll see that God has already been at work, preparing the way for us to go. So pause now, prepare your hearts, because I don’t think we’ve yet seen all that God wants to do through you and me and PF Hope.

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Flesh of My Flesh


The Sermon Study Guide is here.

Ephesians 5:21-33; Genesis 2:20-25; Matthew 19:1-11
August 19, 2012 • Portage First UMC

An older man and his wife were getting ready for bed one night, and when he crawled under the covers and just started to get comfortable, he heard her say from the darkness, “Do you remember when we were younger, and you’d snuggle up next to me as we went to sleep?” The old man sighed, very loudly, and scooted a little closer to her. After a moment or two, he heard her say, “And do you remember when we were younger, you used to put your arm around me and hold my hand when we went to bed?” Once again, with a loud sigh, he moved closer and took her hand in his, only to hear her say, “And honey, do you remember, when we were first married, how you used to nibble on my ear?” At this the man, threw back the covers, jumped up out of bed with a loud sigh stormed out of the room. “Wait!” she said. “Where are you going?” The man turned around and said, “I’m going to get my teeth!”

And they say romance is dead! Well, that story reminds us that love is more than a feeling. When we think of the word “love,” in our culture we most often think of romance or sex. But, as we’ve discovered in the last couple of weeks, the ancient world had a much broader definition of love. In fact, as I’ve shared with you during this month, there are four words for love in the New Testament world. “Storge” refers to family love—the kind of love we first experience. “Philos” refers to friendship love—the first place we begin to care for those outside our family. And today we come to the third word for “love,” the concept we probably most often mean when we talk about it, and that word is “eros.” Eros refers to the love between a husband and a wife, marital love. Now, we get the word “erotic” from eros, but in reality, we’ve perverted that word to mean something dirty, something beyond the bounds of marriage. In its original meaning, eros refers to the kind of life-long commitment and fidelity that God calls husbands and wives to. While we might use eros to refer to a certain kind of sex or sexual entertainment, that was not the original intention. We are sexual beings, but from the Bible’s perspective, we express that within the bounds of marriage, in a place where a husband and wife are committed to each other “til death do us part.”

Today, in America, weddings have become an industry. Every year, people spend thousands of dollars each year on the wedding day itself. On average, Americans spend $5,392 on an engagement ring and $26,984 on the wedding ceremony itself. And that’s an average. The actual costs range from $13,214 in Utah to $70,030 in Manhattan. On average, the couple will spend $194 per guest, which includes $1,393 for the ceremony site and $12,124 for the reception. Bridesmaids will end up spending $1,695 each, a figure which includes the dress, travel, gifts and parties (Stevens, “Pronounce Yourself Frugal,” Chicago Tribune, May 20, 2012, pg. 7-1). We make a huge economic investment in the wedding ceremony itself, but often we forget that on the other side of the wedding is a marriage. We invest far less in sustaining the marriage than we do in putting on a wedding, which is why, today, 50% of first marriages end in divorce (www.divorcerate.org). Sixty-seven percent of second marriages end in divorce, and—are you ready for this—seventy-four percent of third marriages end in divorce. Couples with children have a slightly lower rate of divorce, but not by much, and research project after research project has shown that Christian faith has little to no effect. Christian marriages end at the same high rate as non-Christian marriages. Through the prophet Malachi, God says that breaking a marriage covenant is the same as a husband doing violence to the one he should protect (cf. Malachi 2:16), and yet, we live in a time where break-ups and divorce are rampant, marriage is undermined and we seem to have no idea what it means to love our spouse in the way God intended. So what is a Biblical picture of eros love, marital love? Paul has some things to say about marriage when he writes to the Ephesians, and so we’re going to start in Ephesians 5 this evening/morning with a well-known passage about submission and love.

This passage is tricky and has often been taken out of context, so it’s important to understand what Paul is actually saying when he writes, “Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord” (5:22). That word “submit” has been used in many cases to justify violence against women, even in Christian circles. There are churches who teach that if your wife won’t “submit” (however you define that), you can justify “making her submit.” I knew of a church (not in this area) that held classes several years ago to teach men how to make their wives submit. But here’s the thing: we think of submission in terms of power and authority and strength and might and domination. When someone “submits” to us, we think we have power over them. Paul uses this word twenty-three times in his letters, and there is no occasion when he uses it to describe one person exerting their power over someone else. It’s always in the setting of showing respect because of a person’s qualities or their position. Paul tells us to submit to civil authorities, to church leaders, to parents and to masters. In other words, it’s a matter of showing honor, whether we agree with them or not (Wood, “Ephesians,” Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Vol. 11, pg. 75). We may or may not like the results of this year’s presidential election, but our calling is to show respect to the office of president. That’s the sense Paul is using here as well. Wives, submit to your husbands—they deserve respect because of who they are to you.

But let’s look again at the context, because this is not a blanket statement for wives to just give in to whatever their husbands want. Look at what Paul says about husbands: “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (5:25). Now, the word there for “love” is not eros; it’s agape, which we’re going to look at closely next week, but Paul gives the explanation and the example of how a husband is to love his wife so that she will naturally “submit” or show honor. The path or guideline for a husband’s love is this: love her the way Christ loved the church. Do you remember how Christ loved the church? Jesus willingly gave his life for the sake of those he loved. The story of the Bible is the story of a broken relationship. Humanity walked away from God; we sinned. God cannot be in the presence of sin, and so somehow that relationship had to be made right. Jesus came in order to do that, to show us how to live, and then to offer himself as a sacrifice on the cross. Jesus loved us enough to die in our place, or as Paul says, he “gave himself up” for us, for the church, for all his people. That’s the example Paul uses when he describes the kind of love husbands are to show their wives: “complete, self-abandoning love” (Wright, Paul for Everyone: The Prison Letters, pg. 67). A husband is called to be willing to give up his life for his wife. So, in many ways, Paul is giving the heavier responsibility to the husband, and his description of this relationship automatically leaves out any violence, harm, bullying, arrogance or any idea that women are somehow inferior to men. That’s not what he’s saying at all. Rather, he’s saying we have responsibilities to each other, and we’re not to coerce each other. The husband is the protector of the wife, and the wife is the first champion and chief encourager of the husband (Wood 75-76).

In a world like Paul lived in, where the Romans basically treated wives as property or as little more than slaves to their husbands, this was a revolutionary teaching, especially when Paul has set all of this in the context of verse 21: “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” This is a word not just to husbands and wives, but to all who find themselves in any kind of relationship—whether romantic or family or friendship. In other words, this is a word to all of us (unless we choose to live under a rock by ourselves). It sets the tone for the next several paragraphs in this letter, but it certainly applies in the passage we’re looking at this evening/morning. The original design for marriage was mutual submission—each looking out for the best for the other. From the beginning, this was God’s intention. In the beginning, Genesis tells us, God made Adam, and brought before Adam all the animals to be named. “But,” Genesis says, “no suitable helper was found” for Adam (2:20). You see, in the very beginning, God recognized we men needed help! In fact, in verse 18, God says, “It is not good for the man to be alone.” We couldn’t go it alone—for one, we’d never stop and ask for directions and it was going to be a long time, God knew, before GPS was created. And let’s be honest: by ourselves, some of us would starve to death! So God put Adam to sleep and, in the very first surgical procedure, God removed a rib from Adam and made Eve. Now, why is Eve’s creation described this way? After all, God made Adam, we’re told, from the dust. Couldn’t he have made Eve the same way? Of course God could; God can do anything. But Eve was made from Adam so that there would be an eternal, indelible link between man and woman, so that when Adam first saw Eve, he would say, “This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh” (2:23).

Paul uses that example as he drifts back and forth between the husband-wife relationship and the Christ-church relationship, both of which he refers to when he says it’s a “profound mystery” (5:32). There is a link between husbands and wives that goes deeper than flesh and bone, though in the view of Genesis and, I think, also Paul, the visible expression of that link, that connection is the sexual relationship that is meant for husbands and wives to exclusively share. But the connection is deeper than even that. Paul says they belong to each other, and that they are set apart for each other. That’s what the phrase “make holy” refers to. It’s a Greek word that means “to set apart.” In fact, in the old Jewish marriage ceremony, a husband would say to his wife when he gave her the ring, “Behold, thou art sanctified to me.” You’re set apart for me. Marriage becomes an exclusive relationship, with a bond that is deeper than we can really describe, though Paul tries. He says it’s like the other is part of your own body, and “no one ever hated their own body, but they feed and care for their body” (5:29). So, the bottom line: flesh of my flesh, bone of my bones, husbands and wives are to care for each other as if they are part of each other, an extension of each other, which, in fact, they are, so much so that Paul and other Biblical writers talk about “leaving and cleaving” from our parents. Not that we cut our parents out of our lives, but they no longer hold first influence or first importance. When we are married, our first and highest allegiance goes to our spouse. Tom Wright says, “Often what pulls a marriage off course is the failure of one or other partner to distance themselves emotionally from their parents and devote themselves totally to their spouse. This is worth pondering in itself” (68). Today, some parents don’t set up an environment where their children can do that, and continue to insist on a primary role, and children aren’t always determined to make that break. But Paul says we leave our father and mother and become “one flesh” with our spouse (5:31).

Now, that’s the Biblical ideal, but we live in the real world, and we know it doesn’t always work that way. The statistics I quoted earlier bear that out. Getting married today means you have a 50% or better chance of being divorced within the first ten years, especially if you are between 20-24 years old when you get married. Is there a way out? Does the Bible give any escape clause? Because we’re always looking for the escape clause in whatever we’re involved in, so for that, we turn to Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel, where we find him preaching to large crowds in the desert of Judea, south of Jerusalem. And while he’s there, some Pharisees, who interpreted the religious law very strictly, came up to him. They always seemed to be around, watching for Jesus to do or say something they considered wrong. So this day, they approach him with a question. It’s a good question, because to contradict them would be to contradict Moses, the great teacher of the people, the great lawgiver. They ask, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife for any and every reason?” After all, they tell Jesus, Moses said a man could give his wife a certificate of divorce and send her away (19:3, 7). In fact, they say Moses “commanded” that action, but that’s not correct. They’re referring to Deuteronomy 24, where Moses does say, “If a man marries a woman who becomes displeasing to him because he finds something indecent about her, and he writes her a certificate of divorce, gives it to her and sends her from his house…” and then he goes on to actually say that if she marries another man and he divorces her, she can’t go back and remarry the first man. The whole passage isn’t about reasons for divorce; it’s about a proper ordering of the community. What the Pharisees actually ignore is the phrase Moses uses to allow divorce: if the man finds “something indecent” in the woman. He doesn’t define that, which is probably why they ignore it. In Jesus’ day, there were two schools of thought about that. One rabbi taught divorce was only allowed in the case of adultery, and another rabbi taught that a man could divorce his wife if she burned the toast, and still another rabbi allowed divorce “if you find someone more attractive” (Keener, Bible Background Commentary, pg. 96). In addition, the legal system of the day was very man-centric. The husband could divorce his wife at any time and for any reason, while the woman could divorce her husband only under certain conditions and with the help of the court (Keener 97). So, the Pharisees say, what do you think, Jesus? Who do you side with in this ongoing debate?

Jesus first makes the case, just as we have, for the “one flesh” idea, that husbands and wives are one. “What what God has joined together, let no one separate” (19:6), he says. Jesus goes on to say that divorce wasn’t God’s original plan, and that Moses allowed it “because your hearts were hard” (19:8). Moses allowed it because the world is so broken that sometimes our treatment of each other becomes sinful and there’s really no other choice (cf. Carson, “Matthew,” Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Vol. 8, pg. 413). But Jesus doesn’t say that makes it the preferred option. In fact, he goes to somewhat define Moses’ terms of “indecency” as “sexual immorality” (19:9)—or at least that’s how the NIV translates it. The word there is “porneia,” and a lot of ink has been spilled trying to explain what that word means exactly. It’s can mean “adultery” or “sexual immorality” or even “prostitution.” We, obviously, have adopted that word in our language to refer to a perversion of God’s good gift of sexuality—it shows up as our word “pornography.” But the word really has a broader meaning than that. Its basic meaning is “marital unfaithfulness” (Carson 413). It means the marriage covenant is broken. And certainly, adultery and other forms of sexual immorality fall into that category. But might there be other things also? The man who abuses his wife because he can—physically, mentally, sexually. When someone acts in bullying or abusive manners, when a body is hurt or a spirit is crushed—is the bond broken? In today’s world, we don’t have to go anywhere to have access to pornography. It’s all online, all for the taking. When we fantasize about someone other than our spouse, someone who doesn’t really exist, is the bond broken? Do we break the covenant when we fail to follow Paul’s instructions to submit to and love one another? It’s not simple, and it’s not something, Jesus said you take lightly. In fact, when Paul describes the union of husband and wife he uses a word (we translate it as “be united”) that means “to be glued” (Wood 78). Lifelong exclusive marriage is God’s plan for husbands and wives, and it’s also true that these things don’t automatically trigger a divorce. At the heart of our faith is the principle of and belief in forgiveness, but it’s going to take two people working very hard to get to that point. Reconciliation can happen, but it’s not going to be easy.

And there are times when divorce happens. Whether it should or not, it happens. What do we do then? First of all, let me assure you that even though divorce isn’t God’s plan, it’s not the unforgivable sin, either. Forgiveness is available. And we have to remember in the midst of the brokenness we’re experiencing that the divorce doesn’t just affect two people; there are so many more in your lives who have been affected and who may be uncertain what to do or how to respond. If marriage glues two people together, divorce tears them apart and neither are ever the same. Paul, I think, gives us a good word here, though it’s not just a word for marriage. To the Romans, Paul reminds us: “as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone” (Romans 12:18). That phrase, “as far as it depends on you,” is important. We do what we can to pursue forgiveness, to live above tearing the other person down, and seek to live with integrity as much as we can. Divorce is not the end of the road.

As the church, however, our goal is to strengthen marriages before we get to that point. Just this week, I received an e-mail with a testimony about how a couple re-centered their marriage around their faith and that decision became, truly, salvation to both of them and to their marriage. Marriage, quite honestly, is hard work, and Paul doesn’t dance around that truth. Sacrifice? Submitting? Honoring? Those are hard things to do. The easy thing to do is to walk out, especially today when you can end a marriage online. Cathy and I have been married for twenty-three years, a drop in the bucket compared to some of the folks in our church, and yet it’s not always been easy. There are times when, for both of us, if it weren’t for our faith, we might not have made it to the next day. Especially after the kids were born, marriage took a lot of work. It still does, though we’re in one of the best places I can remember us being right now, even with the stresses that push in daily. But you have to make time for each other. Why is it when we get married, we stop dating our spouse? Times where it’s just the two of you are vitally important—though if you have kids at home, you may end up wondering what to do or talk about if you don’t have them out with you. Listen to how comedian Jeff Allen dealt with getting away without kids.

VIDEO: Jeff Allen - Wedding Anniversaries

So you need time away, without the kids. Children need to know they’re loved, but they also need to know you love your spouse enough to spend time together, to continue to grow your relationship. Our culture idolizes children, lets them in many ways control the family. Children are valued, loved, cared for, nurtured and that even happens when you allow yourself to work on your marriage. Cathy and I have, for the last many years, had a regular date time set aside and most weeks we keep that. We both have Fridays off, so on Fridays during the school year we go out to lunch together, and we talk, we catch up because often during the week we’re going here and there and there’s no time to work on “us.” So for us, going out to eat removes us from the temptation to do “ordinary things” around the house and not focus on each other. Each husband and wife have to find a time that works for them, and then put it in ink in your calendars. There shouldn’t be much that changes that appointment.

Beyond that, you need to make a commitment to each other that issues won’t fester. Paul said, “Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry” (Ephesians 4:26), and that’s good advice for husbands and wives. When you are married, you make a covenant for better or worse. Too often, we let things just sit because we’re afraid of upsetting the other person. Well, he may need to be upset. She may need to be turned around. You both may need to listen. Eros love isn’t just about sex. And it isn’t just about sharing a mortgage. Deep, committed covenant love means you’re in this thing for the long haul. It may mean that today you do what she wants to do. Or tomorrow she does what you want to do. That’s part of loving and submitting and honoring one another.

And when those tough times come, it’s important to go back to the beginning. What was it that made you fall in love with this person to begin with? What qualities, what characteristics—what was it that drew you to each other? And I hear people say, “Well, they’ve changed.” So have you. None of us stays the same. But I know this: those who are willing to work hard on their marriage want to know why you fell in love with them, and that might be the reminder they need to recapture part of themselves they have lost. It’s easy to criticize the other person, but are you the person they fell in love with? Are you growing more into a loving and lovable person? Sometimes, very often, it takes simply remembering what a gift your spouse was and is.

I don’t have a lot of treasures, priceless things, but this is one of the few I do have. It’s a Bible—a New Testament—and it doesn’t look like much; there’s nothing really on the outside that would make it stand out. But it was found among my grandmother’s things when she passed away. And when I opened it, I found this inscription: “Presented to Walter F. Ticen with the prayers of the Presbyterian Church and Sunday School, Beloit, Kansas, September 25, 1917.” And on the opposite page, presumably in my grandfather’s handwriting, is his father’s name and that he lived in Sedalia, Indiana. This was my grandfather’s Bible when he served in the Army during the time of World War I. There’s also a picture tucked in here of my grandparents from 1920, after he had returned home. I never knew my grandfather; this Bible and a couple of other items are really the only I connection with him. It’s a treasure. There is not another one exactly like it in the world. So what do you think I do with it? Toss it around, leave it laying out in the rain, let the dog chew on it, or lose track of it? Absolutely not. I keep this treasure on a high shelf in my office, to remind me of my heritage of faith and of those who prayed for my grandfather, and of those who pray for me. Why am I telling you this? Because when you got married, God gave you a treasure, a work of art, a masterpiece. And that other person might not look like a treasure on the outside; you have to look inside to see God’s fingerprints. On your wedding day, God entrusted you with a one-of-a-kind creation, a treasure you are to value, honor, and protect—every day of your life (cf. Lucado, The Lucado Inspirational Reader, pgs. 153-154). How are you doing with living out eros love? What one thing will you do this week to strengthen your marriage or the marriages of those around you? Write it down, make a commitment to do it before next Sunday. Small steps can lead to great progress and turn those “worse” times into “better.” So, let’s pray for our marriages, shall we?

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Come Before Winter


The Sermon Study Guide is here.

1 Samuel 20:1-17; 2 Timothy 4:9-22; John 15:13-17
August 12, 2012 • Portage First UMC

According to Facebook, I have 1,027 friends. And since it’s on the internet, it must be true, right? 1,027 friends…and most of them I actually know! It’s a result of having lived in many different places in my life, and having served three churches over the past twenty years. But, honestly, most of them I don’t see very often if at all. A few of them are “friends of friends” that I may never have met. Social media is actually changing the very definition of the word “friend” (or at least what we think it means), because you can be “friends” online with nearly anyone in the world. Facebook alone has an estimated 845 million active users, so conceivably you could have 845 million friends all over the world, never having met most of them. The other thing social media has done is introduced the concept of “unfriending” people. Online, you simply click a link and you’re not friends anymore. All of this without having to see, confront or talk to the other person. Now, I use social media and I know it has tremendous power to connect people, but it’s changing the concept of friendship radically, especially among younger people. Today, many people have lots of online friends, but we have very few “real” friends.

By “real friends,” I mean those folks you could call at 2:00 a.m. and know they would listen to you and do whatever it would take to help you if needed. Or, at the very least, people who will be there to listen, to not judge and to buy you a cup of coffee in the real world. Friends are vitally important to our well-being. John Ortberg tells of a research project done a few years ago by a social scientist from Harvard. The researchers tracked 7,000 people over a period of nine years, and one of the things they learned is that people who were isolated, who had few or no friends, were three times more likely to die younger than those who had strong relational connections. Maybe even more surprising was this fact: “People who had bad health habits (such as smoking, poor eating habits, obesity, or alcohol use) but strong social ties lived significantly longer than people who had great health habits but were isolated. In other words,” Ortberg says, “it is better to eat Twinkies with good friends than to eat broccoli alone.” Another study, reported in the Journal of the American Medical Association, told of a project in which 276 volunteers were infected with a virus that produced the common cold. (Not something I would volunteer for!) Those who had close friends were four times better fighting off the illness than those who were more isolated. The study said these people were less susceptible to colds, had less virus, and produced significantly less mucous than people who kept to themselves. It’s true: unfriendly people are snottier than friendly people (John Ortberg, Everybody’s Normal Till You Get to Know Them, p. 33)!

The Gallup Organization studied the relationship between friends and work. People who have no friends at their job only have a 1 in 12 chance of feeling engaged in or connected to their work. On the other hand, if you have a “best friend” at work, you’re seven times more likely to be engaged in what you’re doing. Time magazine put it this way: “Let friendship ring. It might look like idle chatter, but when employees find friends at work, they feel connected to their jobs. Having a best friend at work is a strong predictor for being a happy and productive employee.” The bottom line? Friendships—real friendships, not just online connections—are vitally important, because, as the Bible has asserted all along, we were made for community.

Last week, we began a series of messages looking at the various relationships in our lives. During August, we’re focusing on four words that, in the New Testament world, describe love, and so we began last week with storge, which is family love. Families are where we first learn what love looks like, and when we get that healthy picture, we’re able then to share that with others, with friends. The Biblical word for friendship is philos, as in “Philadelphia,” which is actually a Greek word that means “city of brotherly love” or “city of friends.” “Philos” describes the kind of bond between two people that comes from a work relation, or common interests, or any number of other things that connect people. In ancient times, this word described the “best man” in a wedding party, whose responsibilities included asking for the hand of the bride, finding out if she would marry the groom. “Philos” is being willing to stand by someone, to do what is needed for them, and in the Scriptures there are many images of such friendship. For our sake this morning, though, I want to just look at three stories, and from each of those stories, draw out a principle of Biblical friendship. So—three stories, three principles, and one question I’m going to ask all the way through: how good a friend are you? Pretty simple, so we’re going to start in the Old Testament, with two men named David and Jonathan.

David, you might remember, was chosen by God to be king of Israel after the first king, Saul, failed to be who God called him to be. David was a shepherd boy who suddenly found himself at the center of political intrigue, because Saul was not going to go quietly. He made repeated attempts to kill David, and often he had David on the run throughout the desert of Judea. Jonathan, you might not remember. He is Saul’s son. He is the heir apparent. He is the one who, by succession, would naturally follow his father on the throne, become the next king. And that’s why Saul can’t begin to understand the friendship that grows between David and Jonathan. David is Jonathan’s replacement. David is the reason Jonathan will not become king. And yet, rather than join Saul in his murderous rage against David, Jonathan becomes David’s most loyal friend and supporter.

When we join the narrative in 1 Samuel 20, Saul has already made attempts on David’s life. Jonathan is in denial, and I don’t think it’s because he’s trying to deceive David or because he’s trying to keep both sides happy. I think it’s because he can’t imagine why his father would want to kill the one God has chosen. To Jonathan, David is not a replacement. He is a friend. And so, in this chapter, when David comes to Jonathan, asking what he has done to deserve such treatment, Jonathan says, “My father wouldn’t do that!” When David pushes the issue, Jonathan’s next words are those of a close friend: “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do for you” (20:4).

David reminds Jonathan that the next day is a special feast. It’s the beginning of the month, the New Moon Feast, a time when a special meal was eaten in God’s presence and special sacrifices were offered. And even though David was hated by Saul, David would still be expected to show up at dinner, because he was part of the royal court (Goldingay, 1 & 2 Samuel for Everyone, pg. 95; Arnold, NIV Application Commentary: 1 & 2 Samuel, pgs. 296-297). So, David says he’ll skip the meal, and if Saul is angry, Jonathan will know that his father intends to harm David. The rest of our reading, then, is a description of the covenant of friendship David and Jonathan share. Now, we usually use the word “covenant” to describe a marriage relationship, but here it’s used in a different but no less significant way, because the whole conversation is couched in terms of loyalty to each other. David wants to be assured Jonathan will keep his promises even at the risk of angering his father. And Jonathan, for his part, wants David to promise to take care of Jonathan’s children when David becomes king. Jonathan knows it’s customary for ancient Near Eastern kings to get rid of all the descendants of anyone who might threaten their throne (Arnold 299), and so Jonathan asks David to show the same mercy to his offspring that he shows to Jonathan. Together, they make promises to each other that come from a deep loyalty rooted in the relationship both of them have with God.

The word used here to describe it is hesed, which is a difficult word to translate into English. Most often, you might find it as “kindness” or “lovingkindness.” It can mean loyalty, faithfulness, mercy, love. The basic meaning is close to this: when the one who owes you nothing gives you everything. Most often, it’s used to describe the way God views us, but it’s also used in the Bible and in the Old Testament specifically to describe human relationships in which we faithfully live out our commitment to each other by doing what we can for the other. We put the other first. We show kindness by what we do, by the way we treat those we call our friends (Arnold 301). Jesus described it this way: “Do to others as you would have them do to you” (Luke 6:31). And for these friends, it was a commitment that extended to each other’s family. In fact, when Jonathan is killed and David becomes king, he extends kindness to Jonathan’s sole survivor, Mephibosheth (Goldingay 97). So the first principle we find for Biblical friendship is loyalty, a willingness to do what is needed for the other person.

In the movie Rudy, we meet a young man who wants nothing more than to play football for Notre Dame. But he’s told he’s too small, he can’t do it, and even though he’s given a place on the practice squad, all he really wants to do is to suit up. He wants his parents, so proud of him for being admitted to Notre Dame, to see him on the field. The new coach says no, until Rudy’s friends do what they don’t have to do and stand up for him.

VIDEO CLIP: Rudy, “Dress in My Place”

Biblical friendship is rooted in covenant and in unfailing kindness. Philos—friendship—is loyalty. So the question: how good a friend are you?

Now, let’s turn to the New Testament. David and Jonathan’s story is rooted in the early stages of a friendship, but Paul’s story, as we find it in 2 Timothy, is nearing the end. In fact, many believe 2 Timothy was, perhaps, the last letter Paul wrote before he was killed by the Romans. At this point in his life, Paul has been through a lot. He’s traveled all over the known world, preaching the Gospel, leading others to Jesus, starting churches and facing opposition. He’s in prison now, probably in Rome, and he is alone. So he takes up pen and paper and writes to his friend, his “dear son,” as he calls him in the beginning of this letter, Timothy (1:2). Timothy is one Paul mentored and then helped establish as a pastor in Ephesus. This letter is, in many ways, Paul’s final charge and challenge and encouragement to Timothy—his last chance to mentor him. So he covers many things, and then, at the end of the letter, Paul gets very personal. He’s lonely. “Only Luke is with me,” he says (4:11), and he needs to know someone is out there, someone is supporting him. He’s known what it feels like to be deserted, to be left alone when facing trial, and to have people he trusted “do him harm” (4:14). He’s known what it’s like to have people reject the faith he tried to hard to live and to instill in them (4:10). Now, he knows God has been with him through all of that, but you know, sometimes we just need to have flesh and blood reassurance. It’s true that Jesus will never leave us or forsake us (cf. Hebrews 13:5), but sometimes we need that friend who comes alongside as a reminder. That’s why, I think, Proverbs reminds us, “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity” (17:17). You’ve known times like that, haven’t you? I have. It is in the most difficult times in our lives when we find out who our “real friends” are. It is in those times when we walk through the fire that we discover who will come alongside and walk with us. Even when others desert us, a friend will stick close. Hear again words from Proverbs, words which, to me, almost read like a prayer: “One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother” (18:24).

And so, Paul writes to Timothy. “Do your best to come to me quickly,” he asks. In fact, he specifically asks Timothy to come before winter (14:21). Now, undoubtedly, he’s worried about Timothy traveling in bad weather. There’s an urgency in the request that Timothy would come before the sea lanes are closed for the winter. Land travel was bad enough in the winter; sea travel was impossible (Arnold 296). So certainly he is concerned about the weather; that’s also evident because he asks for his cloak, his heavy outer garment he left in Troas (4:13). Even in a relatively warm climate like Rome, the underground prison would be damp and cold. But I think there’s a deeper significance in Paul’s call for Timothy to come before winter. He seems to know his end is near; he says as much earlier in the letter when he tells Timothy, “I am being poured out like a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near” (4:6). Paul wants Timothy to make sure he arrives so Paul can see his friend one last time before he leaves this world. “Winter” becomes a metaphor for the end of one’s life. And though Paul knows he has been faithful to what he was called to do (cf. 4:7-8), he still longs to know that his ministry and his friendship with Timothy has made a difference. “Come before winter, Timothy. I need your support, I need to sense your faithful friendship.” So, the first principle of Biblical friendship was loyalty. And the second principle is this: we show our friends support even in the darkest of times. We stand by them, like Timothy stood by Paul.

One other quick thing to point out when it comes to Paul: consider how willing he is to forgive those who have hurt him. He writes this: “At my first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them” (4:16). That challenges and convicts me, because when someone has hurt me, when someone has deserted me or, worse, intended to harm me, I have a hard time getting to forgiveness. Now Paul does not say we should put ourselves back in a place where we can be hurt again. He also doesn’t say we should continue to try to be friends with them. Perhaps they have proven they can’t be trusted or counted on or whatever. But part of friendship is being willing to forgive (for our own sake, if nothing else), to move on, to do what Paul did, to turn the hurt and the relationship over to Jesus. And I’ll admit, that’s hard for me to do. I’m working on it. So, again, the question: how good a friend are you?

For the third story, we turn back a few pages to the Gospel of John, to a walk Jesus took with his disciples on the last night before his crucifixion. We looked at this story a few weeks ago, but this morning I want to focus on the sort of people Jesus calls “philos”—friend. “Greater love,” Jesus says, “has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s philos. You are my philos if you do what I command” (15:13-14). And he goes on to talk about his command is to bear fruit by loving one another. So these disciples are Jesus’ friends, his philos. And they live that out by doing what Jesus said. They live it out by bearing fruit for his kingdom. They live it out by loving one another. These particular disciples lived it out in the next few years by going to the ends of the earth to tell others about Jesus. They shared faith. They preached good news. They made an impact on their world. And all of them, except one, died a martyr’s death because of their faith. The world put them to death because they were so radically wrapped up in the love of Jesus, in being Jesus’ friends. So the third principle, then, is this, I believe: to be a true philos to someone means we share faith. We are concerned enough about their eternity that we want to make a difference in the lives of our friends with the love of Jesus.

Of all the things we talk about with our friends, rarely do we talk about the most important things. We talk about the weather, the latest technology, who won the big game last night, where we should go to eat today, how our kids are doing in school, how our golf game is going, or what kind of car we’d like to buy next—all of these things that we talk about, endlessly, and rarely do we ever get around to talking about the things that are most important. Rarely do we ever get around to talking about our faith. You know, our mission statement here at the church is that we’re becoming a community where all people encounter Jesus Christ. Our mission statement as the United Methodist Church is that we are making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. We believe, and the Bible tells us this, that the message of Jesus is the most important message in the world. Choosing to follow him is the most important decision we will ever make because that decision alone determines our eternity. We’re wasting time worrying about things that won’t last while people we call friends—whether they’re on Facebook or in the real world—all around us are headed into an eternity without Jesus. Hell, whatever else it is, is eternal separation from God’s presence. When will our friends become important enough to us that we’ll do what Jesus said and share our faith with them?

Now, I’m not talking about being a Bible thumper and going to every friend and telling them to “turn or burn.” Sharing our faith with someone ought not to be a threatening thing. It ought to be something that flows out of us naturally, through an invitation to go with you to a church service or an event or a work project, or by sharing at an appropriate time how your faith in Jesus helped you through a difficult or dark place. You see, becoming a community where all people encounter Jesus Christ and making disciples for Jesus doesn’t just happen within these walls. It can’t. It’s more likely going to happen in your everyday life, in the relationships and friendships God has entrusted to you. You will reach people and touch lives I never will because of your commitment to a philos love which includes loving our friends enough to be concerned for their eternity. I’ll never forget when I was very young the way God impressed this on me. I can even remember where I was in our house in Sedalia, and I was watching something (I don’t remember what) on television when God spoke very clearly to my heart. God gave me a vision of a friend of mine spending eternity without Jesus, and in that moment I could feel what it would be like if that friend entered eternity separated from God. It was a horrible, empty feeling. And, I think, it’s that experience that has given me a passion for mobilizing folks to share faith with friends. Philos love calls us to do what Jesus commands, to love others enough to share faith with them. So, again, the question: how good a friend are you?

So David and Jonathan remind us of the vital importance of loyalty. Paul and Timothy remind us how critical support is, especially in difficult times. And Jesus calls us to share faith. These images are at least part of what Biblical friendship looks like. And along the way this morning, you’ve been examining what kind of friend you are. So let me ask one more question: are you willing to invest the time and energy it’s going to take to become a better friend? Because it will take time, and perhaps patience. This week, one morning, I was working at Starbucks, and sitting across the room from me were two friends, one of which was talking rather loudly. And he kept talking. And kept talking. And I got to the point where I wanted to ask him to stop talking, but his friend patiently listened. And the more I thought about that, I wondered if he realized how good a friend he had there. To practice philos is going to mean we need to listen well in order to know our friends well enough to know what they need. How can we live out loyalty to them? How can we support them? How can we share faith with them? We’re going to have to listen more than we usually do. So much of our friendships stay on the surface because we talk and we talk and we talk and we don’t listen. And more than that, we don’t take time to listen to the whispers of the Holy Spirit, because if we’re listening to the Spirit of God, I believe we’ll be able to hear what our friend needs. Are you willing to take and invest the time that’s needed to be a true philos?

And, one more thing—like Paul asked of Timothy, we need to do it before “winter,” before there is no more time. When we were in college, Cathy and I had a friend named Sherry. We were all in InterVarsity together, and got to know each other, and then we all graduated, Cathy and I got married, and everyone moved on with their life. Sherry came to visit us once in seminary, not long after she’d been diagnosed with scleroderma, a disease that attacks the connective tissue in your body. Sherry fought against it well, even entering a program at Ohio State for her doctorate. We visited her there once, and then we sort of lost touch. When she died a few years later, just shy of having completed her doctorate, I wondered why we hadn’t said the sorts of things we should have. We were always joking around with Sherry; that was somehow easier. But I don’t know that we ever became the support she needed. I don’t know that we ever listened well enough to know what that would look like. Now, this is not one of those “feel bad for me” stories. Sherry’s in heaven with Jesus, but her story and other things that have happened to me through the years have made me determined to let people know how important they are to me. I want to be a good and loyal philos. I want to represent Jesus well, because friendship is vitally important to each of us. God made us for community. God made us to be in relationship with each other. So let me ask you one more time: what kind of friend are you? And if you’re not the kind you want to be, what will you do this week to become more loyal, more supportive, more like Jesus? Who is in your life right now whom you can invest in? I can’t urge you enough to do it before “winter.” Let’s pray for our friends, shall we?