That Corny Love Chapter
Transcribed from the sermon preached January 28, 2007
The
Reverend Max Lynn, Pastor
St. John’s Presbyterian Church
2727 College Avenue, Berkeley, CA 94705
Telephone 510-845-6830 Fax 510-845-6837
office@stjohns.presbychurch.net http://www.stjohns.presbychurch.net
Scripture Readings: I Corinthians 13
This is a very familiar
passage, the corny love chapter, the reading you always hear at weddings, or
see embroidered on the cloth hanging in Grandma’s kitchen. It expresses the great human hope that with
God’s love we are united in one mission, and given strength to succeed. With
God's love we may be afflicted but not crushed, perplexed but not in despair,
persecuted but not forsaken. Love is
the great virtue that never ends.
I remember one day on the
river in Guatemala I saw some upper middle class Guatemalan kids in a
speedboat. They were partying and water
skiing and lounging around in their bathing suits flirting with each other. The first time I saw them it made me home
sick and envious. I wanted to be in
their place. There I was putting along
in a log, alone. But the second time I
saw them, some six months later, it was different. I was working with a Keckchi village. We were putting in a fresh, cement-lined well with a hand pump
and cover, and had come up river to pick up sand for cement. The city kids pulled up to the same gas
station as us, laughing and looking really cute and rich. For a second I thought I would like to jump
from our boat into theirs. On second
thought I noticed that I didn’t really feel like being anywhere else. I was, in that moment, content. The Kekchi villagers I was with had become
my friends and we were doing something important and valuable. We picked up sand and went back to the
village. That afternoon, as I was knee
deep in mud, getting eaten by a variety of insects, sweating like a pig,
pushing a four foot in diameter cement pipe through the swamp, I found myself
laughing at how happy I was. I was part
of a community and good things were happening.
Whenever someone goes out
to take communion or go Christmas caroling to our shut-ins, they always mention
how good it makes them feel. For most
people, one of their least favorite places is a hospital or nursing home. It reminds us of sickness and death, of our
own mortality. But when we choose to
love and serve people, no matter who they are or where they are at, we affirm
our own inherent self worth. By God's grace we love and are loved.
Our society programs us to
ask, what is in it for me? What do I
have to gain from this person or that?
What value do they have that warrants taking time and energy to relate
to them. You know, the old car salesman
syndrome: Feliciana and I had looked at
a car, but she was not with me when I went back. We had agreed to not spend more than a certain amount of
money. I told the salesman exactly how
much I was willing to spend. He was
incredibly nice, and he did a great job making me feel like a valuable and good
human being while he was checking our credit and finding us the best deal. But when he could not make the price I had
set with Feliciana, and he finally realized that I truly would not spend more
without bringing in my wife, he changed and started treating me like I had
wasted his time. When being nice looked
like it wasn’t going to pay off, he became angry. If he wasn’t going to make money off me, I was not worthy of his
kindness.
Everybody wants to meet
their basic needs: shelter, clothes, food, and then the second tier: sex and
recreation; and every human is limited.
We have a God given drive to take care of ourselves. And feminists and liberation theologians
remind us that there are times when justice demands standing up for yourself,
and too often women and the poor are asked to consider others needs and desires
over their own. Psychologists remind us
that there is a limit to what we can give, that we have to have a self to give
of our self. Jesus frequently escaped
the crowds and good deeds to rest and pray in a garden, on a mountain, or on
the lake. M Scott Peck says, “Saints
must sleep and even prophets must play.” Loving our neighbor as our self
implies that we have a self. And
sometimes the loving thing to do is to let someone struggle on their own, or
suffer the consequences of their actions.
We can be helpful and loving in the wrong way or at the wrong time. It is also important to know our limits, to
accept with grace the fact that we will not be able to help everyone or do
everything. And too often, our attempt at help makes things worse or gets
misinterpreted. It is hard to see our
own bias, especially in acts resembling love.
Now we see in a mirror dimly.
Reinhold Niebuhr writes
that a “rational ethic seeks to bring the needs of others into equal
consideration with those of the self.
The religious ethic…insists that the needs of the neighbor shall be met,
without a careful computation of relative needs.” (Moral Man and Immoral
Society, p. 57) Picking up on Niebuhr, Daniel Day Williams writes, “Only agape
leads to fulfillment, but the fulfillment must be the unintended result,
otherwise love masks our self-seeking and then the goal is lost. Niebuhr argues
that sacrificial love is the ‘impossible possibility’, and he has exposed in a
masterly way the sin in our pretences of morality and brotherhood. It is grace
alone, with the forgiveness it holds, which can release us to recognize and in
some fragmentary way begin to live in self-giving love for God and neighbour.” Williams, Daniel Day The Spirit and the Forms of Love. 1968 by Harper & Row.
The Corinthians are arguing
over who has the better gifts, who is more Spirit filled, who is the most
deserving of authority. Some are
emphasizing speaking in tongues; others emphasize knowledge or gnosis as the best
vehicle to the divine. They are arguing
over whether evangelist, prophets, teachers or healers are more important. Paul says each of us is given certain gifts,
and each of us is a unique part of the body of Christ, with a calling to
serve. But the value of our service is
determined not by our particular gift, but by using that gift with love.
It is so wonderful to see
this congregation reach out in love and service. We are working to extend the legacy of St. John’s into the
future. There is no guarantee that your
service will pay off for you or for the church. Christ did the loving thing and was crucified. We may work to be inclusive and find that
most people don’t want just anyone around.
The church may speak out against the war and get its tax-exempt status
revoked. We may recognize the loving
Spirit in gays and lesbians and be brought up on trial. We may offer our bathrooms for anyone to use
and find that some will come in and make a humungous mess of the place. We will certainly run in to each other's
shortcomings, our biases, our sinfulness. We will surely find in each other all
the things Paul warns us against: envy, impatience, arrogance or rudeness,
irritability and resentment. If you look closely, you can see these in Paul
too.
Yet we are called to build community, to be the body of Christ, to give, and serve and love anyway. We are called to repent and forgive, to believe and hope and endure through all things. We love because God first loved us. The Christian principle of love is based on the belief that all creatures reflect the Divinity. We are all children of God with inherent worth, unconditionally loved by God. By the grace of God, our love is a reflection of God’s love. In the same way that we drink from wells that we did not dig, so the amazing work you do for St. John’s comes from a love that is not yours alone, and it will reap a benefit far beyond any potential personal reward. When we give freely from love for love, without counting the benefit, the paradox is that somehow we become part of something bigger and more beautiful than our individual selves alone, we feel connected and full of a priceless purpose. In short we discover the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, and the eternal love of the Creator.