Introduction to the Scripture

If you like faith simple - expressed in absolutes, everything black or white with no shades of gray,  it's right or it's wrong - then you'll like John.  John as in the fourth Gospel, or John as in the epistle of First John.  Both works are associated with John the disciple, or as he calls himself not so modestly "the disciple whom Jesus loved."   Both the Gospel we call John and the little letter we know as First John see everything in the world as "either/or."  Either you're in or out, you live in the light or you live in the dark, you believe or you don't, you're with God or against God; it's all very clear.  Which can be very frustrating if you, like me, see lots of different sides of issues; if you want to always ask, "But what about this, or that, or yet another circumstance?  What happens then?" 

            But sometimes a straight-forward, "this is the way it is" pronouncement, with no long lists of confusing qualifications and special circumstances, is refreshing.  Sometimes we just need to hear the unvarnished basics, and be struck by the power of the truths of our faith stated without explanation, and without apology.

            Listen now to discern in this little passage, written some 1900 years ago, the very Word of God for each of us today.

As some of you know from past sermons, I grew up in the Brown Street Christian andMissionary Alliance Church, in my hometown of Akron, Ohio. My folks took me there two and three times a week, like or not.  And despite my reluctance to participate, that church played a central role my first twenty years.  There were some wonderful people there.  Deeply committed to their faith, and to each other.  Fervent in worship - heartfelt "Amens" to something the preacher said were not uncommon, nor were tears.  There was a lot of laughter too, a lot of caring for each other.  And a good deal of tolerance for us young people who did not always feel the gravity of the faith as they did.

            And that setting  was very secure, comfortable place to grow up.  Oh, demands were made on us to live in a certain way; you couldn't just do anything you wanted to.  I don't mean that it was "comfortable" that way.  In fact we had a very long list of don'ts, and we kept to them pretty well . . . don't play sports on Sunday, don't go to movies, don't play cards, don't drink anything alcoholic.  It was a rigorous religion in that way, but yet, a comforting one.  It felt secure, and even warm in a sometimes scary world.

            Why?  Because we knew that we were right, and everyone else was wrong.  We had the right faith; we understood God, the Bible, Jesus perfectly well,  and everyone else was just wrong!  Except maybe the Baptists, but not the Methodists or Presbyterians or Lutherans, and certainly not Catholics.  Never the Catholics.  We had Catholic neighbors, and we knew they drank beer.  And so, it was clear that they were out.  A had a cousin who married a Catholic, and he drove a beer truck, and delivered beer to Friday night Bingo at the parish - so we KNEW they were out!   We were in; we were right; God loved us because of itl  And that feels good.  Very comfortable.  And very egocentric, very wrong.

            Can I be very honest with you?  Sometimes when I look at the world, and see the catastrophic divisions that exist between religions, in every age, the hatred that religions - our faith, the Jewish religion, Muslim, others - the deep, abiding hatred that erupts into war and suffering and death for thousands upon thousands of people when I see what religious people do, I can empathize with those anti-religionists who say that religion has brought more harm than good to the world.  I can see where they're coming from.  Horrendous acts are committed in the name of God, in the name of righteousness, in the name of defending the Truth against the Truth that that other religion claims.   Religion - especially as practiced by the deeply committed, the religion of true believers - can be a frightening, diabolical thing.  Let's be honest about that at least.

            And yet . . . we also know that faith - dare I say "any true faith?" - cannot -  ever -  be expressed by hatred, bigotry, violence.   Hatred toward another, bigotry toward another is always the irreconcilable opposite of allegiance to God.  Yes, unspeakable acts have been done, still are being done, in God's name - be it in Jesus' name  or Yahweh's or in the name of Allah - by the deeply committed; but so are wonderful acts of grace and kindness, sacrifice and sheer goodness being done by the equally deeply committed.

            Which is why today's passage from First John is so very important in today's world.  I said earlier that John speaks in stark, either/or language.  And I said that this can be challenging for people who see that so often in life there are not just two sides of a coin, but a third and a fourth and a fifth and usually a lot more.  But sometimes we need to be much more simple, and bold, and certain about what we believe.  Our reading today provides that.

            Don't you just hate it when a Fundamentalist starts quoting verses to prove their point?  We used to call it "proof-texting;" that's when a person quotes a verse that, to their way of thinking, proves a point, and settles the argument once and for all.

            Well, today's passage is the liberal's "proof-text."  Listen again:  God is love.  God is love.  Period.  Not God is usually love, or God is love for Christians but not Buddhists.  Not God is love AND a few other not-so-loving things.  God IS love.   Where is the jealous, wrathful God? Where is an angry God?  If we say that human love has no room for jealousy, or wrath, let alone hatred and bigotry, how much more is the love that IS God only love that is pure and forgiving, patient and kind and gentle!

            The passage goes on.  Just who among the people of this God's earth knows God, lives in God, does the will of God?  Who is on God's side, so to speak?  Those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them.  Whoever lives in love, lives in God and God lives in them.   Not those who say the "right" words, profess the correct creed, believe orthodox doctrine.  Not those of a certain religion, or those fanatically committed to that religion.  What you believe is not most important.  How you live, in love, is. 

            And if we need a more categorical statement about how true faith behaves, listen again to this verse: 

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.

            How plain can you get?  How clear can you get?  You can't love God - remember, that's what religion is all about - and hate people.   If I hate, I do not believe.  I don't care how sincere I seem to be, or how devout I am in my faith, how often I am in church, how much I sacrifice for God, if I say I love God, but I despise someone for their religion or nationality, their economic status, sexual orientation, whatever - if I have hatred in my heart I cannot have God in my heart.

            That's what the text says.  I wish it didn't.  I wish it gave me some way out, some justification for just a little prejudice, a little anger toward people who believe differently, a little bigotry to make my world more understandable.  But no.  The simplicity of the statement is its power to shine a light on my hypocrisy, and call me to greater faith, true faith that makes no compromise with hatred for others, no matter who they are.  If I say I love God, and hate another person, I am a liar. 

            And that's why we are striving to make this place - our church - a place where all are welcome.  All are welcome because we know that what you believe is not nearly so important as how you live.  All are welcome because we are united not in a common creed, a mere listing of doctrines we affirm, but a common commitment to walk in God's ways.  We fall short, certainly, but that is our aim, our ideal.  In the words of the new hymn we have learned today:  (Marty Haugen, All Are Welcome, used by permission in the service)

Let us build a house where all are named, their songs and visions hear,

And loved and treasured, taught and claimed, as words within the Word.

Built of tears and cries and laughter, prayers of faith and songs of grace,

Let this house proclaim from floor to rafter: All are welcome,

All are welcome in this place.