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SERMON
Last week we began a modest series of studies on the great ends of the church. In the Preliminary Principles of our Presbyterian Church's constitution, Article 2 begins with these words:
The great ends of the church are:
· the proclamation of the gospel for the salvation of humankind;
· the shelter, nurture and spiritual fellowship of the children of God;
· the maintenance of divine worship;
· the preservation of the truth;
· the promotion of social righteousness;
· and the exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world.
Today we'll take a brief look at the second of these six benchmarks that can help us to recall, whenever necessary, the reasons why we exist as a church.
The first responsibility of the church is to tell the good news of Jesus. Second only to that, it says, the church is to provide "the shelter, nurture and spiritual fellowship of the children of God." Now, think about those words for a moment. They're not just speaking of children in terms of age and size. We're all children of God. So those words suggest far more than the church's responsibility to provide orphanages, Sunday schools and youth fellowship programs. The second great end of the church, it says, one of the primary reasons God has placed us here, is to provide the best sort of spiritual home for all his children. Which means that, as people enter our doors, they should have a clear sense that they've come home.
But what constitutes a healthy family of faith? Or to put it more personally: What sort of family of faith would you want to come home to? What sort of church would you want to be a part of? Would it be one in which everybody is perennially happy because their every need is met and every want is satisfied? That sounds nice, but get real! I have yet to find a family of faith like that - or any family for that matter - at least one that I would consider healthy. But I can think of all sorts of families with very real needs and substantial wants that nevertheless provide great "shelter and nurture and spiritual fellowship." To me, that describes a healthy church. And if I had to sum up the character of such a family of faith in one word, it would be "agape" - that deeply shared love of which Jesus spoke in our lesson today.
There's an old proverb that says: "Shared joy is double joy; shared sorrow is half a sorrow." That's good, and it's true. Our Lord knew that sharing our joys and our sorrows with each other isn't just healthy; it's really quite essential. That's why Jesus didn't say to his disciples: "This is my suggestion…" He said, "This is my command: Love each other." And in giving us that command, Jesus singled out this kind of love as fundamental to a healthy, lively, growing church.
But what does it mean to "love each other" in this particular way? Let me offer three basic ingredients of that remarkable kind of shared love of which the New Testament speaks so eloquently and which our Lord commands. It seems to me that agape (Christian love) needs a healthy dose of availability, accountability, and authenticity. That's how Jesus was with those closest to him - available and accountable and authentic. And he told them: "This is my command: that you love each other the way I have loved you."
Allow me one disclaimer before we look at those three elements of Christian love. I'm not suggesting that it is desirable or even possible to practice all three of those disciplines indiscriminately with every person in the church. It can't be done. Christian love, by its very nature, is intensely personal. And you simply cannot be personally involved in the lives of several hundred people simultaneously. So take a cue from our Lord. According to the record, Jesus was close to about a dozen friends. But remember, he's the Son of God. We'd be doing well to approximate his record with a very few close friends.
If you're married, I hope that your spouse is one of your very close friends. Carol certainly is to me, and I am so thankful for her. You may not be married. But married or not, what I strongly suggest is that, if you don't have at least one (or perhaps two or three) people to whom you are available and accountable and with whom you can be authentic, then your walk as a Christian may be headed for some serious trouble. (Some of you may already be in trouble.) But I want you to understand that there's hope. Keep in mind also that there's nothing particularly magical or mysterious about these disciplines of Christian love. Anyone could practice them. Sadly, all too few seem to do so with any consistency.
1. First is the discipline of availability - and it is a discipline. You have to choose to take the time and pains to be available to a few others. But the payoff is as rewarding as the alternative is distressing. Philip Zinbardo, a psychologist at Stanford University, wrote an article for Psychology Today magazine entitled "The Age of Indifference." There he wrote: "I know of no more potent killer than isolation. There is no more destructive influence on physical or mental health than the isolation of you from me and us from them. It has been shown to be a central agent in the etiology of depression, paranoia, schizophrenia, rape, suicide, mass murder and a wide variety of diseased states."
He goes on: "The Devil's strategy for our time is to trivialize human existence in a number of ways: by isolating us from one another, while creating the delusion that the reasons are time pressure, work demands, or anxieties created by economic uncertainties."
Now, I hasten to add that, if those are not delusions - if you really are suffering fatigue and time pressures and economic anxieties (which may well be the case) then more than ever you need one or two or three close friends to whom you are available and who are available to you. Remember the old proverb: "Shared sorrow is half a sorrow." There is healing in just a few friends, Christian friends, who are available and to whom you make yourself available. That's part of the love of which Jesus spoke.
2. But it's not enough to just be there - to be available. There needs to be accountability as well in true Christian love. Let me give you a working definition of accountability that I found somewhere years ago. "It is a willingness to explain one's actions, to answer for one's life, to supply the reasons why." Accountability means to know someone well enough that he can check out my inner life, or that she can know my motives - someone who has the freedom to ask, "Why?" Because as long as our friendships skate along on the level of "what" rather than "why," they're bound to remain relatively superficial.
But when you know someone well enough that they feel free to ask you, "Why?" - then you move into a deeper, riskier, more meaningful and far more rare level of friendship. In fact, my guess is that the great majority of us here probably don't know one person that intimately outside our marriage. Why? Because accountability, like availability, is a choice; it's a decision. And many, perhaps most, of us are reticent to choose to be accountable to someone else. I'm not talking here about an accountability imposed on you. But beyond the kinds of accountability that a civilized society imposes on people, most of us are relatively free to choose whether or not we will be accountable to anyone for our inner life.
I read a memorable quote some years ago that has haunted me ever since. It said: "The measure of a person's character: What you would do if you knew nobody would know." The quality of our character is defined by our willingness or unwillingness to be held accountable for things no one else might otherwise know. While we're free to make that choice, the fact is that most people cannot handle being accountable to nobody for the quality of their inner life. Wise, therefore, the person who chooses to be accountable - who gets close enough to one or two or three others who are free to ask, "Why?" That, too, is part of what it means to love the way Jesus commanded us to love.
3. There is one other essential aspect to the unique kind of love that Jesus expects us to share. And while it is clearly implied in both the disciplines of availability and accountability, I'm convinced we need to practice the discipline of authenticity. Small children are the perfect picture of authenticity. That is, they can't help but be themselves. But early on we all learn to mask our true thoughts and feelings. And even though in some cases we're killing our inner selves with our pretense, most of us find it very hard to simply be ourselves with others. Why is that? Perhaps the single most common reason why we find it difficult to be authentic is because we take ourselves too seriously. We find it very difficult to laugh at our own follies.
I found a little story that points up this all-too-human frailty. There was an officer in the navy who dreamed of commanding a battleship. Finally he achieved his ambition and was given command of the newest and proudest ship in the fleet.
One stormy night as the ship plowed through the seas, this captain was on the bridge when, directly off the bow he spotted a strange light rapidly closing in on his vessel. Immediately he ordered the signalman to flash the message to the unidentified craft: "Alter your course ten degrees south." Only a moment passed before the reply came: "Alter your course ten degrees north."
Determined that his ship would give way to no other, the captain snapped out the order to be sent: "Alter course ten degrees; this is the captain!" Back beamed the response: "Alter your course ten degrees; I am a seaman third class."
Infuriated, the captain grabbed the signal and fired off: "Alter course! I am a battleship!" The reply came back: "Alter your course; I am a lighthouse."
It never would have happened, of course; but it's a fun story, and it makes a good point. We take ourselves so seriously sometimes, and it often gets us in trouble. We would all be so much better off if we would choose to be authentic; to accept our limitations as well as our strengths; to learn to live our lives with a sense of grace - that the Lord is able to use the likes of us; and a sense of wonder - that the Lord actually does use the likes of us to be his Body, the church.
I'm grateful that I'm part of this church; that God has called us together to share both the joys and the sorrows; that he has commanded us to "love each other" in an available, accountable, authentic way. Jesus said, "Go and make disciples of all kinds of people. Baptize them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Teach them to obey everything that I have commanded you - including this: love each other as I have loved you." The second great end of the church is to provide the shelter, nurture and spiritual fellowship of the children of God.
Let's pray: Father, if there is a burden laid on us, it's the burden of love, and we shoulder it gladly in Jesus' name.
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