agape love

The Careening Mind

Romans 13:8-14 (NLT)

Owe nothing to anyone—except for your obligation to love one another. If you love your neighbor, you will fulfill the requirements of God’s law. For the commandments say, “You must not commit adultery. You must not murder. You must not steal. You must not covet.” These—and other such commandments—are summed up in this one commandment: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Love does no wrong to others, so love fulfills the requirements of God’s law.

This is all the more urgent, for you know how late it is; time is running out. Wake up, for our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. The night is almost gone; the day of salvation will soon be here. So remove your dark deeds like dirty clothes, and put on the shining armor of right living. Because we belong to the day, we must live decent lives for all to see. Don’t participate in the darkness of wild parties and drunkenness, or in sexual promiscuity and immoral living, or in quarreling and jealousy. Instead, clothe yourself with the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ. And don’t let yourself think about ways to indulge your evil desires.


Paul has returned to the theme he explored in the verses we heard two weeks ago. Why he deviated from his message to talk about government, no one knows for sure, but we are back to the importance of love in the heart of the practicing Christian.

As I said two weeks ago, in many ways Paul is restating lessons Jesus taught while walking on Earth, ancient ideas rooted in Old Testament teachings. In one way or another in all three of the synoptic gospels, Jesus says we should love our neighbors as ourselves. Additionally, in The Gospel of John our savior gives what he describes as a “new commandment,” to “love each other.”

“Just as I have loved you, you should love each other,” we hear in John 13:34-35. “Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples.”

We also see an expansion of the concept of “neighbor” in Luke’s telling of the lesson. When asked to define this word, Jesus responds with the parable of the Good Samaritan, where we hear we are called to show mercy toward people traditionally our enemies. In fact, we learn the act of showing mercy is lovingly transformative, making our enemies our neighbors.

If we love well, Paul is saying, we cannot help but fulfill the requirements of the ancient law given to Moses.

Too often, we think of this loving approach to the world around us as something to grow into gradually. Hey, grandparents are often quite good at showing deep, unconditional love, right? Maybe it is something we master as we get older, after we’ve done the hard work of establishing careers and accumulating the stuff that makes us feel secure.

Just one problem: Paul takes time to emphasize the urgency of our need to change, to stop committing sins that are either caused by misdirected love or a complete absence of love. He uses very traditional metaphors for good and evil and goes all “End Times” on us, warning his audience of the need to flee to the light before darkness is destroyed forever.

Quit your partying and your drunkenness. Get your sex lives under control, living according to the marital standards Christ so clearly upheld. Quit behaving like children on Facebook, where you openly quarrel and show your jealousy of each other.

Okay, Facebook isn’t in the Bible. If Paul were writing today, though, I wonder if he would use some of our Facebook posts as examples.

The urgency of Paul’s message can elude us now, if for no other reason than the passing of nearly 2,000 years without Christ’s return. Skeptics will raise this point as disasters unfold, asking, “Where is God?”

But at the same time, I feel certain most of those people would be wanting an extension, a little more time to get their lives in order, if Christ were to return right now. When Christ returns, or when we individually die and find ourselves standing before him, many of us may feel shocked at how quickly and unexpectedly we ran out of time.

Try to get your hearts in the right place now, Paul is saying, so that you may cling tightly to the salvation Christ has offered the world. Don’t wait! Wrap yourselves up in Jesus Christ. When we are conscious of Christ’s presence, our ability to love and simultaneously flee from sin increases exponentially.

Paul even gives us what sounds like modern “positive thinking” pop psychology as we try to better understand how to live lives that are more disciplined, more in line with the holy nature of Jesus Christ, who has saved us from sin.

Don’t just resist sin at the point where you are about to commit sin. Actively avoid sin by paying attention to your thoughts and feelings, learning to steer them.

Our minds can be like careening cars controlled by a half-asleep driver. We need to know ourselves; we need to know what thoughts steer us off the road toward danger.

Here I go again: How is your prayer life? How is your knowledge of what God has revealed to us in the Bible? Are you in worship regularly, so the Holy Spirit can shape your innermost thoughts and feelings?

Do you have a Christian friend or, even better, a group of Christians around you that you trust, people who can help you win the battles we sometimes have in our minds?

With the Holy Spirit at work in us, the car is not hard to steer. Paul is not telling us to take on some insurmountable task. With God’s help, all things are possible, including an end to sin and an almost unimaginable growth in our ability to love.

 

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The Radical Love List

Romans 12:9-21 (NLT)

Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good. Love each other with genuine affection, and take delight in honoring each other. Never be lazy, but work hard and serve the Lord enthusiastically. Rejoice in our confident hope. Be patient in trouble, and keep on praying. When God’s people are in need, be ready to help them. Always be eager to practice hospitality.

Bless those who persecute you. Don’t curse them; pray that God will bless them. Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with each other. Don’t be too proud to enjoy the company of ordinary people. And don’t think you know it all!

Never pay back evil with more evil. Do things in such a way that everyone can see you are honorable. Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone.

Dear friends, never take revenge. Leave that to the righteous anger of God. For the Scriptures say,

“I will take revenge;
   I will pay them back,”
   says the Lord.


Instead,

“If your enemies are hungry, feed them.
   If they are thirsty, give them something to drink.
In doing this, you will heap
   burning coals of shame on their heads.”


Don’t let evil conquer you, but conquer evil by doing good.


In many ways, Paul here is simply echoing the teachings of Jesus. Jesus had his Sermon on the Mount, and this would be Paul’s Sermon from Corinth, if most scholars are correct about where Paul was when he wrote to the Christians in Rome.

It is best, it seems to me, to go through it concept by concept, much as we might break down the Sermon on the Mount. Again, we are moving rather quickly through Romans. I see about a dozen possible full-length sermons in these verses today.

Broadly, I will say this: Like Jesus, Paul is encouraging a kind of love most of us still consider radical today.

Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good. Love each other with genuine affection, and take delight in honoring each other.

The key word here, it seems to me, is “genuine.” If we find ourselves faking love in order to look Christian, we need to pause and ask God to help us discern what is wrong. Why do we struggle to love the person before us? What prejudices or old hurts are we carrying that interfere with our God-given ability to love others?

Similarly, if we find ourselves liking what is wrong or failing to appreciate what is good, we may have discovered a spiritual flaw we need to bring to God for healing. Again, what has happened to us that would cause us to like what is wrong, that is, what is contrary to God’s will?

If we want to deepen our prayer lives, a good place to start is a close, prayerful examination of those moments when we may not be reacting to people or situations the way Christians should.

Never be lazy, but work hard and serve the Lord enthusiastically. Rejoice in our confident hope. Be patient in trouble, and keep on praying.

This one is easier to understand, I think, as we age. Time seems to go so fast. Time is so easily wasted. Oh, to have back all the time I’ve wasted, time that could have been of benefit to the kingdom! I am embarrassed to think of all the ways I’ve wasted time.

It’s easy to fall into despair. Don’t, Paul is saying. Hope should reign in our hearts. Hey, as Christians, we’re often a mess. We get off-track, off mission. Christ’s power is in the world, though, and remarkable things can happen in a very short period of time.

Yes, time is short. Paul reminds us, however, that there also are painful moments we think will never end. No one wants to be in such moments, but there is an advantage to such times. They represent opportunities to slow down, breathe, and pray.

When God’s people are in need, be ready to help them. Always be eager to practice hospitality.

Hospitality is a Christian virtue that also was a very important Old Testament virtue. This is not about tea-and-cookies hospitality; when rendered into a theological term, hospitality is about radically opening our lives to people in need.

In the Old Testament, we see hospitality in practice when strangers enter a town square or draw near to a herdsman’s tent and are quickly greeted, fed and sheltered. Turning away a traveler was tantamount to sin; there were no Holiday Inns, no Waffle Houses, and you potentially were leaving the person to die.

We also see hospitality in the Old Testament when a prophet finds shelter with a poor widow, and becomes a blessing to his benefactor.

Hospitality is a deep and complicated subject, in part because it requires a commitment to simple living and deep vulnerability to others. I have found it even helps us process difficult subjects like abortion.

If I’ve intrigued any of you at Luminary or elsewhere with a brief mention of hospitality, let me know. It is the kind of topic we can spend weeks exploring in a small study group.

Bless those who persecute you. Don’t curse them; pray that God will bless them.

This seems to be more about our state of mind when victimized than anything else. In the scenario we are to imagine, someone has caused us to suffer, and the first step is to get to the place mentally where we can pray for that person’s well-being and alignment with God.

Praying for our persecutors makes a lot of sense, if you think about it. Maybe you’re dealing with a bully. Hey, even adults deal with bullies. A lot of bullies move from pushing people around on the playground to making life miserable in the workplace. But if that bully is transformed by Christ, everyone’s problem vanishes.

The last thing you want is for your persecutor to grow more closely aligned with the devil. Pray the devil away. Pray the bully finds the peace and joy derived from a close walk with Jesus Christ. Your non-anxious, prayerful presence might even contribute to the conversion!

Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with each other. Don’t be too proud to enjoy the company of ordinary people. And don’t think you know it all!

Life happens. Joy happens, sorrow happens. Stay in the midst of it all, and as you do, don’t be afraid to carry Christ into every situation you encounter. Again, such behavior is very “on mission,” and when we stay on mission, people are drawn to Jesus Christ.

As for the part about the company of ordinary people and not thinking you know it all—well, I humbly refer you to last week’s sermon.

Never pay back evil with more evil … never take revenge … Instead,

“If your enemies are hungry, feed them.
   If they are thirsty, give them something to drink.
In doing this, you will heap
   burning coals of shame on their heads.”

 

Oooo, boy. “Blessed are the peacemakers.” “Turn the other cheek.” Remember those words of Jesus? Paul really is echoing Jesus here as he quotes from the Old Testament Book of Proverbs.

This is tough stuff. It’s hard to live out personally. It’s even harder to get what so many people call a Christian nation to put it into policy. We’ve been at war 16 years, people—16 years! We’re about to escalate in Afghanistan once again. Some new strategies may be in order.

Paul offers all this up not just as a nice idea, but also as a strategy that should lead to positive results. He is saying, Let your goodness stand in such striking contrast to other people’s badness that the bad feel ashamed, and ultimately they will change their ways. In modern terms, we call this “nonviolent direct action.”

And yes, it does work. All you have to do is study the strategies and results achieved by people like Martin Luther King Jr. or Gandhi.

Yes, it’s also dangerous. Both the men I just mentioned died while living out such a strategy. But despite their deaths—we even can accurately say, in response to their deaths—larger victories were won.

Earlier this week, I put something on our church website and in our September newsletter arguing that this commitment to Christian nonviolence is precisely what we lack in our culture today. We need some brave Christians willing to stand against this tendency toward violence that is creeping into our national conversations.

Don’t let evil conquer you, but conquer evil by doing good.

After all that talk of peacemaking, Paul uses a conquest metaphor. We are reminded that we are in a war, a spiritual war that plays out all too often on a very physical level. As you enter the fray, enter it boldly, but understand that truths revealed by Jesus Christ are our weapons.

By the way, the outcome is a foregone conclusion. Christ wins! And because we stand with Christ, we win, too!

Not Quite Home

2 Corinthians 5:1-10 (The Message)

When it comes to the subject of home, I suppose my family and I have had a different perspective than the traditional one in recent years. As I’ve transitioned careers, going to seminary and then through my first couple of appointments, we’ve moved enough to understand that a house is not a home.

Our middle child, my son, Charlie, has a particularly acute sense of this truth. At 19, he’s just old enough to remember every house we’ve lived in as a family, and just young enough to have experienced all the moves. (Our youngest child, Bonnie Rose, has no memory of Georgia and little memory of our seminary time in Kentucky. Our oldest child, Pollie, was living on her own before this last move.)

I asked Charlie not too long ago what place he thinks of as home. He puzzled over the question for a moment and said, “I guess wherever you all are.” He shares with military kids and gypsies that transitory view of home.

Home really is a state of mind, I suppose. We moved just a couple of times when I was a kid, always in what was basically the same town, and when asked I will tell people that Jonesborough, Tenn., is my hometown. The odd thing is, none of those houses really serves as the location of home in my head.

The place that seems to have wired itself into my brain is my maternal grandparents’ house in Bristol, Va. Until my granny passed when I was 14, I spent a lot of time there—weekends, summers, holidays. My strongest, clearest memories of childhood are of that house, on Bristol View Drive, a high hill overlooking the mall. When I was a child, the families in the houses around us were kin to my grandmother, a Johnston by birth. (My grandfather seemed to be very aware of being surrounded by in-laws.)

Everything about this split-level house was compact: the covered narrow front porch, the entryway running straight to the stairs that went down to a tiny den, the sharp left into the living room, the sharp right up the polished wooden stairs to the bedrooms and bathrooms. My grandparents’ bedroom had a neat little wrought-iron balcony looking into the woods.

I can dream about events that have nothing to do with my grandparents or childhood, but the dream will be set in that house, as if it’s now some sort of empty stage where my mind can process matters large and small.

One vivid dream more than 22 years ago played out in front of the house. Connie (my wife) and I drove up the hill, and as we turned into the driveway, it was all lit up, every room aglow like a house in a Thomas Kinkade painting. I looked at Connie and said, “Well, we’ve come full circle.”

The dream ended suddenly because Connie woke me up. “I’ve got something to tell you,” she said.

“You’re pregnant,” I sleepily responded. She had just taken her home pregnancy test, and wanted to surprise me with the positive result. I guess the dream spoiled the surprise. By the way, that child, my daughter Pollie, is named after my grandmother, an honor we had planned for a daughter before my dream.

That place is burned into my mind not because of the house itself. It’s there, I think, because I learned in that house so much about what it means to be loved. My granny was one of those people especially gifted in showing people love, and needless to say, her grandchildren, of which I was the first, got the full dose. Her house is a symbol for me of what we all crave most, unconditional love.

I bring all this up because today is homecoming at Luminary. For many of Luminary’s members, homecoming evokes all sorts of memories, many of them set in a building we no longer occupy as a church, having built a new building on a new site 11 years ago.

I’m guessing your best church memories, while tied to a place, are actually rooted in an experience of unconditional love. You saw such love in people around you, many of them no longer here. You experienced that love directly from the Holy Spirit, perhaps while singing, or during a baptism, or maybe while hearing the word of God very clearly for the first time. I pray you really sensed it when you first understood the message of the cross, and realized Christ died on the cross because of his love for you.

I do sympathize with what we feel when special places change or go away. I got to go through my granny’s house a few years ago; I was next door visiting my cousin as he dealt with his parents’ failing health, and the current owner asked me to come in and tell her what was original and what was not. Houses change, particularly when people want to tear off little wrought iron balconies and replace them with large wooden decks. Houses of worship change, too, even when you don’t change locations.

But that’s okay, isn’t it? The love that comes straight from God remains despite what changes in this world. It imprints itself on us fully. And not only that, the love we feel now points us toward what we will experience with God for all eternity. And that love will never change. Nothing will ever be taken away.

In fact, what we have lost here we will find there, in our real home.