Sunday, October 29, 2023

October 29, 2023 - The Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost

Lectionary Readings

Help us, O Lord, to love you in all things and beyond all things. Amen.

            Does anyone think that love is a bad plan? Maybe I’m out of touch with the world, but I just don’t think many people hear Jesus’ summary of the Torah, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets,” and then think “Yea, that’s not right, there’s got to be a better answer.”

            The issue is that we’ve all heard that we’re supposed to love God and love our neighbors, what, a thousand times, ten thousand times? We hear it in Scripture, we hear it music, that “love is all you need,” we hear it in movies, and we hear it from preachers – that we just need to love God and one another. Our problem is not ignorance – we know that love is supposed at the center of everything. Rather, our issue is that we’re not clear about what love is, we’re not always willing or able to take the risk of love, and even when we are, we don’t always know how to love. And we see all three of these dynamics at play in the encounter that Jesus has with the Pharisees in the Temple.

            What is love? A translation of Scripture that I’ve mentioned before is the First Nations Version. Published about a year ago, it’s a translation from the perspective of the indigenous peoples of this land and I find it to be an enlightening way of encountering the Bible through fresh eyes. That version translates the Great Commandment as “You must love the Great Spirit form deep within, with the strength of your arms, the thoughts of your mind, and courage of your heart.” Or going back about 800 years, St. Thomas Aquinas said that love is about willing the good of the other. The founder of the Order of the Holy Cross, an Episcopal monastic group, said “love must act as fire must burn.” And many theologians have said that love is the raw substance out of which God created all things, love is what was born from Mary’s womb, love is what was crucified on a Roman cross, and love is what raised Jesus from the dead.

            Given all of that, what is love? Well, we can say that love is not about our emotions or feelings. In none of those understandings of love do we hear anything resembling feelings of affinity, or liking someone, or having warm fuzzies. Nor is love intellectual; love is not something that we arrive at through reason, logic, or debate. Instead, love is a commitment, an orientation, a resolve. Love is another way of saying that we are in harmony with God. The metaphor that I like to us is the beginning of a symphony. Once the conductor comes out, she usually points at the oboist, who plays a note, and then everyone is to tune towards that note. Now, if you get to the symphony early, you’ll notice that all of the musicians are warming up and tuning their instruments. And, presumably, they all think that they are in tune as they are preparing for the concert. But what makes the beauty and the harmony of the music work isn’t that everyone thinks that they are in tune with one another, but rather that they listen to that first note and then adjust towards it. That commitment to being in tune, to listening for that unifying note, and then adjusting towards harmony is a good way of understanding what love is all about. Again, love isn’t about how we feel about someone, or God, love is about seeking harmony, or, we might say, love is about seeking communion.

And, as Jesus defines it, we cannot love God without loving our neighbor. In the letter of First John, we read “Those who say, ‘I love God’, and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen.” It is through loving our neighbor that we love God. In defining love in this way, Jesus is synthesizing a passage from Leviticus about loving our neighbors and a verse from Deuteronomy about loving God with the fullness of our being. The conflation of these two directions of love, towards God and our neighbor, tells us at least two things.

One, love requires us to be rooted in a tradition of love. When asked which is the greatest commandment, Jesus doesn’t have to struggle to come up with a response. He is rooted in a tradition and is able to respond out of that tradition that has formed and shaped him. This is why worship and practices of prayer and Scripture reading matter so much. None of us knows when we will be tested. We can’t plan our accidents. Chaos is not something we schedule. We read Scripture and come to church not to appease God, not because it is a duty or obligation, but because through prayer we become attuned to the sound of love. In beloved community, we are reminded who we are: the beloved of God; we receive Sacraments which nourish us in love; we have opportunities to practice forgiveness, generosity, and unity without uniformity. When I worry about the decline of Church participation and affiliation, I don’t worry about the future of this institution, I worry about the future of a society that doesn’t have a note of love to tune towards.

The other thing that Jesus shows us in his summary of the Torah is that we have to be able to see the forest, not just the trees. Jewish scholars tell us that there are 613 commandments in the Old Testament. The Pharisees tested Jesus to see which single one he’d pick. They were asking him to exclude 612 commandments in favor of one. But when Jesus was asked to choose one, he landed on two. Jesus shows us that we don’t have to be limited by the situations we encounter. He was asked for one answer and he gave two. Jesus didn’t let their question dictate the scope of his response. We are often tempted to narrow, reduce, and exclude. But Jesus shows us a response that includes and expands. Love is not about making things smaller, but rather bigger.

In answering by including all of the Torah instead of just picking one part of it, Jesus demonstrates that true wisdom isn’t just about knowing things, wisdom is about knowing what they mean. In other words, it’s one thing to know that orchestra is tuning towards an A, or that an A note is 440 hertz. It’s something else entirely to know what an A sounds like, what it feels like.

The point is that, by the gift of the Holy Spirit, most of us know what the loving response is in most situations. And, yet, we try to solve too many issues through resolutions or legislation. Love really isn’t that complicated, but by trying to turn love into a policy we end up with solutions that often fall far short of love.

And the reason for this is that love is risk. Again, just consider the cross of Jesus as the ultimate picture of love and we’ll understand why it is a risk. Love is not about self-preservation. Love orients us towards others, and others are not perfect. And so sometimes our love will be rejected and taken advantage of. It is as CS Lewis put it, “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one. Lock it up safe in the casket of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”

Many of us prefer safety to vulnerability. We prefer comforts to challenges. We’d rather worry about our problems than theirs. If love is about tuning towards that note of grace that we have heard, we’d rather choose our own notes. In our self-centered and individualistic world, we’ve been conditioned to believe that we have to find our own note and then play it loud and play it proud. And while there is always room for individual expression, just as there is room in a symphony for violins, trumpets, cellos, and flute, there is only one note of love to tune towards. That’s not to say that the other notes are necessarily bad or wrong. In fact, any good symphony will probably play all of those other notes at some point. What makes the music work though is that everyone starts by tuning towards that note held in common.

But we’ve lost the ability to listen to one another. We often reject the suggestion that we are out of tune and need to make any changes. Sometimes we even dismiss the idea that we are a part of a symphony and insist that we’re just a one-person band. Maybe we’ve been hurt and excluded too many times and don’t want to be a part of a symphony anymore, finding it easier to just go at it alone or in a smaller ensemble. For these, and other, reasons, we don’t take that risk of love.

The result is that we’ve lost our ears for love. We don’t recognize those notes of love when we hear them. Or we’ve forgotten how to get into the right position to play those notes. This is why I so often repeat this note of grace and love in preaching. Until we know how to recognize that note of love over the cacophony of social media, advertisers, politicians, and our inner-critic it will remain a challenge to play that note of love. We can hear every Sunday that we are loved not because of what we do or accomplish, but the Church only gets about an hour of our week. Media and technology companies get a lot more time than that. St. Luke’s has a budget of about $500,000 a year. That’s petty cash compared to what society has at its disposal. As long as those other notes get more volume and airtime in our souls, love will remain something that sounds nice, but remains beyond our reach. It’s why gathering in beloved community and hearing the message of grace and love in community is so vital.

In First Corinthians, St. Paul writes that love is patient, kind, it is not envious, boastful, or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; nor does it tolerate wrongdoing, rather it rejoices in the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things. But these are not virtues that are generally valued or pursued. Sure, we say that we want to be patient, kind, and deferential. But our society does not lift up those models. You can tell a lot about a society by who it gives attention to and what sort of behavior is rewarded. And before we just blame the media, we should realize that the media is just trying to make money. They are giving us what they know we will buy. The media is simply a reflection of who we are, and we are not a society that invests in love.

Which means that even if we have a fuller understanding of love informed by Jesus, even if have the courage and will to pursue love, we haven’t been given good models for what love in society looks like and might not know how to truly love. This is why later this week we will celebrate witnesses to love when we celebrate All Saints. We will consider people like Martin Luther King, Harriet Tubman, Oscar Romero, Hilda, Francis, and Julian. And, again, this is why being a part of a Church community is so important. The Church is a place to practice this sort of love – it’s a place where we are free to make mistakes because the Church is nothing else if not an institution built on forgiveness and second chances. This is a place where we can be in communion with people who are in different socio-economic groups, generations, or political parties. The Church is a place where we cultivate these virtues of love and we practice vulnerability by taking the risks of love. And we do this because of the strength of the Communion that unites us is the very Body and Blood of Christ.

In beloved community, we listen for the note of love, and by the gift of the Spirit, seek harmony with God and our neighbor. “God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them. Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God.”