Sunday, January 31, 2016

January 31, 2016 - Epiphany 4C


In the name of God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
            Love is perhaps one of the most central messages in our Christian faith. We say things like “God is love” and hear commandments such as “love your neighbor as yourself.” But what is love? We get a new phone or sweater and say that we “love it.” Does using the same word to describe our feelings about a disposable object somehow diminish the power of the love to which we are called? I think it does. “Love” is an overused word; and so if we are going to properly read and understand these famous words from 1 Corinthians, we need to understand what love is.

            In The Four Loves, CS Lewis writes about four types of emotions that are often distilled into the word “love,” though each really is distinct. The first is affection, and it is a familiar sort of love. Often this is the love of parents for their children. It is a beautiful sort of love because it is unearned; we love our children because of who they are, not because of anything they do. But this sort of love is often restricted to familiar relations. We feel affection for our children, and those feelings rarely extend to strangers.
            The next type of love is friendship. It’s often less intense than the previous sort, but is broader because it extends to people to whom we are not related. It is a less instinctual sort of love. The third sort of love is eros, or romantic love. This is a desirous love and isn’t just erotic. This is the sort of love that we refer to when we say “I’ve fallen in love.” Eros is a sort of love that involves the totality of our bodies and minds.
            The final sort of love is sometimes translated as “charity.” Sometimes you’ll hear this type of love referred to by the Greek word agape. This is the love that St. Paul writes about. Agape is the love that was nailed to the Cross in Jesus. Agape is the love that conquered death and finds joy even amidst sorrow. Agape is a self-giving sort of love. It is Divine love. When we speak of Christian love, we speak of charity, of agape. That isn’t to say that the other loves are bad or unholy, but they find their perfection in this final type of love.
            And it is this kind of love that is needed in Corinth. Paul is writing to a church that is embroiled in disagreement. The Corinthians are fighting about nearly everything and division is a very real possibility for them. You’ll recall that last Sunday, our reading from Corinthians came from the chapter leading up to today’s. In it, Paul wrote about the Church using the metaphor of a body. He said that in order for a body to be complete, it needs all members, the respected and the less honorable. You need the eyes as much as you need the large intestine, even if it doesn’t get any glory. Then Paul spoke about the various gifts and talents that people have, and says “but I will show you a more excellent way.”
            Before we move into exploring this “more excellent way,” we need to rescue this passage from its natural environment: weddings. These verses on love are read at nearly every wedding, even secular ones. These poetic lines beautifully capture the power of love, and so it’s understandable why people would choose such a reading for their wedding. But really, Paul’s words are better suited for divorce court than a marriage ceremony, as that is more analogous to Paul’s context. This is a highly polemical passage, and Paul is furious. This isn’t a gentle teaching on love, it is an exhortation to stop fighting. Paul is calling the Corinthians to a love higher than affection, friendship, or romance, but rather to charity. This passage has been domesticated by weddings, robbing it of its transformative and radical message: love is about living with tension and disagreement without succumbing to division.
            In Jesus’ ministry, he spoke about having the sort of faith that can move mountains and he told a rich young man that the path to his salvation was to sell of his possessions and give the money to the poor. But here Paul says, “Even if I do exactly what Jesus tells me to do, but do it without love, then it is for naught.” Even if I can do differential calculus in my head (which I can’t), or preach the best sermon ever, or win the Super Bowl, or become the top salesperson in my company’s history, or receive all excellent feedback from my students, or get all A’s in school, or win all sorts of awards, if I don’t love, then those become empty actions.
            It is also worth pointing out some of the grammatical nuance of this passage, as most English translations get it wrong. We read a series of statements with the formula: “love” as a subject, the verb “is”, and some adjective or description of love. And read that way, love becomes passive and something on which to meditate; love becomes cerebral. But that translation structure betrays Paul’s writing. In his own writing, Paul has love as the subject of 16 different verbs. So it isn’t “love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious,” but rather, it should be read as “Love practices patience; love does kindness; love does not act with envy.” The way Paul wants us to understand love is through action. Love is not a kind thing to do, but rather to be loving is to act with kindness. Love is active.
            This is a very messy sort of love though, not the sort that you’ll find on the Valentine’s Day cards that are starting to show up at the store. The sort of love that Paul is talking about is self-sacrificial, it might not feel good, it might make you do things that you’d prefer not to do, it will open your eyes to issues that you’d rather ignore, but it is also the only sort of love that can transform and save the world. This is the love that was crucified. It is the sort of love that Jesus proclaimed last week in our reading from Luke when he said that he came “to bring good news to the poor, proclaim release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Today’s reading from Luke is the conclusion of that story.
            Jesus was speaking about an intrusive sort of love that would upset the way the world worked. No longer would the poor be ignored or the oppressed be trampled over, instead God’s favor would rest on all people. That would mean changing the way we live, and love. It is a radically inclusive sort of love which calls us outside of our comfort zones. Jesus then tells a story from the Old Testament that is example of how God’s love intrudes into our boundaries. We set up distinctions between “us” and “them,” thinking that God must prefer us. We proclaim falsities such as “God helps those who help themselves.” We classify others as different from us so that we can feel justified in our judgment against them. We judge others based on their actions, but ourselves by our intentions. And God intrudes into those ways of thinking and being by saying “there is a more excellent way.”
            The crowd that heard Jesus’ words didn’t like love’s intrusion into the comforts of their lives, so they were ready to throw him over a cliff, and I think we’d have joined them had we been there. We’re in the season after Epiphany, and our readings have been presenting us with early stories from Jesus’ ministry about the ways in which he is revealed to the world. Today’s passage is a reminder that not all epiphanies are welcomed. Sometimes we’d rather be left alone, content with the way things are. But love always calls us to go deeper.
            As an example of what this sort of charitable love might look like in our world, I’d like to share part of a book that I recently read. The social scientist Brené Brown asks in her newest book, “Do you think that people are doing their best?” Since I read this particular chapter a few months ago, it has transformed the way I see the world to be more charitable. She tells the story of going to speak at an out of town conference and having to share a hotel room with another speaker. She opens the hotel room door to see her roommate sitting on a white sofa, with her muddy boots digging into the armrest. She’s also eating a gooey cinnamon roll, and after stuffing the last bite into her mouth, she wipes her sticky hands all over the couch. Brown stood here with her mouth open watching this happen. The roommate replied “Don’t worry, it’s not our couch.”
            Over the next few days, Brown observed other situations which astounded her, and we all have witnessed these sorts of things – racist remarks towards a bank teller, people cutting in the school carpool line, people saying idiotic things on television. Brown writes that she went to her therapist to say that she was fed up with scofflaws, sewer rats, and scumbags. Her therapist did what any good therapist would do, she pushed back and invited Brown to go deeper into her reactions and emotions. The therapist asked “Do you think those people are doing the best they can?” Brown’s answer was a resounding “no.” The rest of the chapter tells the story of Brown struggling with that question and eventually coming to realize that the answer really is that others really are doing the best they can.
            She came to a place where she could empathize with others, a place where the realities of their lives could intrude into hers, a place where she could charitably love them, as Paul suggests to the Corinthians. It has been said that there is no one whom we could not love, if we just knew their story. Do people still do stupid, annoying, selfish things? Absolutely! But given their upbringing, over which they had little or no control, their current stresses and fears, I, too, think that people are doing the best they can. When I first read that chapter, my response was “No way.” But as I’ve been observing myself and others, I believe that we really are doing the best we can in each moment. Is our best always good enough? Nope. Is our best perfection? Not even close. Does it mean that we don’t try to do better? Of course not. But love is about focusing more on grace than sin.
            Charity, or agape, is about seeing the best in humanity. That is what God sees in us. Not our darkest moments, our worst actions, or regrettable decisions. No, God sees us for who we are- fallible, broken, mistake-prone, but more so as redeemed and beloved. God had such great faith in humanity to come among us. God assumed the best in us by coming to us in Jesus to show us how to follow this more excellent way. If God saw us as hopeless sinners, why would God come to show us this more excellent way if we were destined to fail? Perhaps, God knows that we are doing our best, and knows that even if it isn’t consistent, we are able to live into this sort of charitable and transformative agape love. God sees the best in us, Paul invites us to see the best in each other. The Good News is that God has faith in humanity; and so, our challenge is to also have faith in humanity.
            Let us pray: O God, intrude into our hearts and minds with your love. Strengthen us to put love into action. Guide us to see each other the way that you see us – a beloved units of your grace. Thank you for showing us the power and depths of your love in Jesus. And help us to be a part of your transformation of the world through participating in your Divine Love. Amen.