“Agape Love”
“Agape Love”
John 15.9-17
John 15.9-17
In the name of the Living God and the risen Christ. Amen.
It is difficult to add anything to these beautiful words from our Lord… let me try again. It is impossible to add anything to these beautiful words from our Lord. Jesus welcomes us into a relationship with him, which parallels his relationship with the Father. He chooses us through his sacrificial life-laying-down-love, draws us into himself by grace, gives us his joy that our joy might be overflowing, and appoints us to live this way with one another. When through baptism we are brought into this relationship with Jesus, we are brought into something which touches the very nature of the Holy Trinity—something which is eternal, unbounded and which will never cease even though faith and hope pass away: Agape love.
As the Father loves the Son and as the Son keeps his commands—abiding in the love of the Father—so also we reflect and participate in this eternal relationship when we love. Not, mind you, when we keep all the rules. Like Pharisees of every generation, we can outwardly check off all the things we’re supposed to do while having hearts of hypocrisy and hate. Not, mind you, when we are able to articulate and regurgitate all the mysterious intricacies of Christian doctrine. Even knowledge of God can puff-up and be self-serving. Not even when we sing with the voices of angels and make music so beautiful it makes people weep. Even music in worship can be idolatrous. No, we participate in the nature of the Holy Trinity only through love.
This true, unconditional, agape love is given to us and wrought in us through the death and resurrection of Christ, who laid down his life for his friends. This love from Christ then informs and transforms all the other worth-while things we do: our knowledge, our Christian living, our music, our praise. All the things we do, all the things we know, all the laws we keep, all the praise we bring are given validity and acceptance only as they are done abiding in his love.
So have I added anything to these beautiful words of our Lord? We can add nothing to them, but we are asked to make them our own, and to bring them to life in our lives, our families, in our communities, and even with one another here at First Saint Paul’s. It is one thing to believe these words in worship for about 60 minutes or so (depending on how long communion takes). It is another thing to have them change the way we might view a cantankerous fellow parishioner, an irritating relative, or an unreasonable neighbor. In this way, Christ’s command of love convicts us of our sin and reveals the true nature of our hearts.
You see, in one sense, one could argue that the “law of love” is a whole lot easier than following all the other commands of God. There is only one law you have to keep, and not 10, or 613, or 1,050 depending on how you count all the commands. This “law” has but two, simple parts: love God above all things, and love neighbor as self (easy enough to remember, right?). At first glance, it is a whole lot easier to remember this one simple thing than to keep all the other commands throughout scripture: pray without ceasing, keep the sabbath, refrain from sexual immorality, obey your rulers, give generously, don’t curse, purify your heart and mind from things of this world. All these commands are good, true, and right. But the law of love is at once simpler, but also more challenging (and in the end, more damning). It measures not the results, but the reason we do things. It tests not the method, but the motivation. It regards not the accomplishment, but the attitude. And in the end, the command of this love exposes infinitely more our sin, hate, and rebellion from God and our alienation from one another than any list of rules could ever do.
Where does that leave us this day, on this 6th Sunday of Easter on the North Side? Back to repentance and faith. We are, once again, to tear our hearts (not our garments) with the knowledge of how pathetically empty our love has been, how poorly it has reflected the fellowship of the Holy Trinity, and how tainted and twisted it has made so many aspects of our lives. We are to acknowledge this sin as real sin, to see its damnable effects, and then to turn again back to the love of God for each of us in the cross of Christ. Here at the cross we see this true love poured out for us in forgiveness, given as a covering for us received through faith in his blood, and justifying us before the Father apart from any merit, worthiness, or love on our part. It is this love—unconditional, free, accepting, justifying—which has chosen us out of sin, and empowered us to live again.
Many of you will be familiar with the famous 19th century New England poet Emily Dickenson. Perhaps you were made to have read her work once or twice in high school or college. Good. God bless the liberal arts! May they live long and prosper!
I have no pretense of any real scholarly knowledge of her work. I know Dickenson wrestled with God and faith. Although moving from at times between “submission and outright blasphemy,” in the end, she accepted that God’s transcendent presence, though mysterious, was real.[1]
She wrote one obscure poem, however, which might not even be about God. Its first line is also its title: “Love can do all but raise the Dead.”
It’s a great line, and certainly resonates with each of us if we’ve ever experienced the intensity of human love, but also been faced with its ultimate limit in this fallen world. If you’ve never wished that your love could raise the dead, I’m guessing you will at some point. If you’ve never longed that the power of your love could bring someone back, you might as some point. You might wish that the power of your love could bring someone back, or right a horrible wrong, or fix all that’s broken.
At the core of the Christian faith and indeed the hinge of our Easter celebration, is the conviction, not that just “any love” can conquer death or that our own human mustering-up of as much love as possible, can ultimately accomplish anything. Rather, we believe that God’s Agape Love, made alive and real in Christ, indeed has conquered death. It’s what Jesus means when he says, “I lay down my life for my friends… only to take it up again.”
We’re “taken-up by this Christ-love” here too, aren’t we? It’s the one thing that we can count on, no matter what befalls us or who fails us. This love alive in Christ did overcome death and will raise the dead, and so we know that we will indeed see those who have died in the faith again. This gives us a great perspective on our own inevitable death, but a great perspective on our life too.
Jesus said, “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you. Remain in my love.” (John 15.9)
Come soon, Lord Jesus. Amen.