Philippians 2:1-13, September 27, 2020, Sermon

“WWJD”

by Pastor Randy Butler

I title the sermon WWJD after the popular movement from several years ago – people wore these bracelets with WWJD – What Would Jesus Do? And I do that because the apostle Paul says quite clearly in our passage this morning to the Philippians: “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus…” In other words, think like Jesus would think, do what Jesus would do. Paul’s appeal to the Philippians is based on what Jesus did in his life and death and resurrection. Now of course we can’t repeat what he did, but we can pattern our lives after his. And that is exactly what Paul is asking. He does this because he sees that there is some dissension and disunity among the Philippians. And so he says to them, “Be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves.”

Not exactly the words of a 21st century motivational speaker (or political campaigner). “But in humility regard others as better than yourselves?” “Let each of you look not to your own interests but to the interests of others.” Can you win in life with that philosophy? We are expected to go against other people, compete with them for resources and jobs and homes. Preacher Fred Craddock asks: “What if I were to take our text for today, put it in contemporary English, print it on a plain sheet of paper and not indicate it was from the Bible, give it to some motivational speaker, and ask, ‘What do you think?’ He or she would say, ‘That is a speech by a loser to losers, and they’re going to lose. You are not going to get any money, and you are not going to get any members in your organization with that. It won’t succeed.” So it’s counter cultural – what Paul is saying. He says that Jesus humbled himself, became obedient. It isn’t self-promotion at all, it is a kind of self-demotion. It takes a different approach, a different set of brain cells, a different set of muscles.

A few years ago, my daughter Sarah and I went for a hike in the North Cascade mountains in Washington. It was a beautiful fall day, sun shining, leaves turning golden. We made a pretty strenuous hike to a lake a few miles uphill. I was feeling pretty good, thinking, I’m in pretty good shape, making this climb. When we got there we stopped and had lunch, and just relaxed, walked around the lake a bit. Then after a couple of hours we started back down, and my knees began to hurt, and they began to hurt some more, and halfway down I was in real pain. Each time my leg landed on the trail, I winced in pain – both knees. I made it down, but it was really hard. By the time I reached bottom I was a mess. And my ego was a little bruised too, especially when a group of guys in their forties or fifties ran past me on the way down. They were running the trail. I was about ready to start crawling. Then I started walking on level ground again and I was better.

Like many of us, my uphill muscles are strong and in good shape, but my downhill muscles – they aren’t very well developed, they’re kind of weak, and they start complaining at the first sign of descent. I much prefer the climb up than the walk down.

The apostle Paul says, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who though he was in the form of God did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”

Now Paul doesn’t end it there. He goes on, thankfully. “Therefore God highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus, every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of god the Father.” Jesus is raised from his death, exalted from his place of humiliation. Paul doesn’t want us live on the bottom. He wants us to succeed but in a different kind of way. For Christ, lordship is the status earned by serving, glory is the splendor of humility and everlasting life is sparked by a death on a cross. Fullness is the fruit of self-emptying.

I was reading about the Apache Longbow helicopter that was developed back in the eighties and used in the nineties in the Balkans and Kosovo conflict. The Apache Longbow is a formidable attack helicopter, but it ran into some difficulties. It was intended to fly fairly low, and was vulnerable to enemy fire. But it had an even bigger problem. According to a report made to the Secretary of Defense, it lacked the agility to operate successfully in combat. The reason: Vertical Rate of Climb. VROC. The Army required the Longbow to have a VROC of 450 feet per minute at an altitude of 4000 feet and the helicopter could do even more but there was hitch – it could only achieve that VROC when it was empty. When it was fully loaded with twelve missiles the Longbow couldn’t get the job done. Not only could it not climb, it was actually losing altitude when it was fully loaded.

The same is true for us. Our spiritual VROC, vertical rate of climb, is directly proportional to our VROD, our vertical rate of descent. The way up is the way down. The more humble we are, the more we climb into the presence of God. The more we look after others the more God looks after us. Really it comes down to this: Like the Apache Longbow we fly best when we are empty.

Now let me qualify slightly. This is a sort of pastoral word, because I think we sometimes apply a text like this without considering our growth and development as human beings who follow Jesus Christ. It is easy to see our text as a black and white two stage journey. We see that Jesus humbled himself and was then exalted, that he was crucified and then risen, emptied and then filled. And so we say the way up is down. But let’s be clear. It’s more like three stages. Jesus was first in the form of God – then he emptied himself, then he was exalted. He was equal with God first, then gave that up second, and was made Lord third. So there is a time and place for the expansion of our lives, the extension of our tent poles as the Old Testament puts it, the striving for our dreams and drives, to acquire and grow and build, the exertion of our will.

In order to give something up you have to have owned it in the first place. We are careful to apply this demanding call to humility and surrender. Some people need to practice self-assertion, before they need to practice self-denial. Each of us is in a different place on the journey. And for Jesus it was more like a three stage process – equality with God, the giving up of that equality, then exaltation to Lordship. He starts from a position of strength before he surrenders and is then exalted. Some of us need to establish our position of strength before we indiscriminately give everything up.

Having said that, and this is especially true in the second half of life, the way up is still down. We fly best when we are empty. Those of you who are retired are finding great fulfillment in getting rid of your stuff. How liberating. You are moving into smaller homes. You are downsizing. We fly best when we are empty.

If you aren’t retired though you can still practice this emptying. For some it will be the emptiness of silence in this noisy connected world. Silence will become a place for you to disconnect and be filled with God. I strongly recommend this spiritual practice. It can be life changing.

For others it will be the review of the things you have even in the middle of the journey, in your forties or fifties. It will be an inventory of what’s important and what isn’t. It will be a refining of values and priorities. Sometimes this happens when you lose a job, or a marriage ends. You have come to a time of emptying. You will decide whether to travel light or remain grounded.

Each of us works this out ourselves. Paul says as much in the final words of this text: “carry out your own salvation with fear and trembling,” in other words, takes this seriously, work it out. But don’t worry because it is God who enables you both to want and to actually live out his good purposes.” We are not on our own.

This is the mystery of having freedom of will and choice and yet trusting in God to direct our ways.

It is good to remember that we are disciples, followers of Jesus. Presbyterian pastor John Ortberg points out that the word Christian is used only three times in the New Testament, while the word disciples is used 269 times. We are disciples - followers, students, apprentices trying to learn the way of Jesus, developing his way of thinking feeling and living.

I like the way Dallas Willard puts it. “A disciple is someone whose ultimate goal is to live their life the way Jesus would live it if he were me.” Do you hear the freedom in that? Do hear the way it respects our individuality; the way each of us is made? We cannot be Jesus. We can only be ourselves. So the way we live the Jesus life will be unique to us, faithful to our gifts and personality. The way I live the mind of Jesus is different from the way you live it, because we are different. Our goal is to live our lives the way Jesus would live if he were me. And we can do that. Let’s keep doing it as we follow Jesus together. 

Philippians 1:21-30, September 20, 2020, Sermon

“Ultimate Freedom”

Pastor Randy Butler 

We sometimes forget that the apostle Paul wrote several of his letters from prison. Though in at least one case he was under a kind of house arrest nonetheless what we have in his letter to the Philippians and the letters to the Colossians, Ephesians and the tiny letter of Philemon is a kind of prison literature, a unique kind of writing because prison, after all, provides a unique perspective on life and death. Paul has nothing at this point to call his own really, he is under the control of others. His life is not his own. Life has become quite simple. He is a prisoner.

Now maybe you’ve read the prison letters of other great leaders. They can be profound – Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s “Letters From Prison,” Martin Luther King’s “Letters From a Birmingham Jail, South African Nelson Mandela’s letters from prison – these prison epistles galvanize movements and people in a way that no other writing does because they come from those who have been willing to sacrifice their lives for the causes they espouse.

And this unique perspective that comes from being in prison is clear in Paul’s letter to the Philippians. He is able to reflect quite clearly and practically upon his life and possible death. The kind of freedom that comes from being in chains gives him this ability. And he says, “For me living is Christ and dying is gain.” In other words, living is being with Christ and dying is even better because I will be fully with Christ. Christ in this life, even more Christ in the next life.

Now he isn’t being morose here. He is not writing out of self-pity or a sense of martyrdom. He truly believes it and he is torn. It is a very real dilemma, and he says, “I am hard pressed to decide between the two, but I think that God has more for me to do with you, and so I am looking forward to joining you again soon.” “I would rather depart and be with Christ, that’s my deepest desire,” says Paul. But God may have other plans. He deals with his death openly and frankly. Live or die it truly doesn’t really matter to Paul. He has a kind of prisoner’s perspective, he has an eternal perspective because he belongs to Christ, he is Christ’s servant, Christ’s slave. That, it turns out, is ultimate freedom.

It is hard for most of us to talk so freely about death in our time. We tend to avoid the subject. Over the years though I have found it refreshing when an old saint is able to say, “You know I’ve run the race, I’m ready to just go and be with the Lord. I’ve done my part. I’m waiting for God to call me home.” I don’t try and talk them out of it: “Oh, no, you shouldn’t say that.” I like to just let it be. Because it is a true and deep desire. The apostle Paul himself says, “my desire is to depart and be with Christ for that is far better.”

So Paul is poised, balanced, free to go either way. How do we get to such a place? That’s hard, and it takes awhile. It takes life-long prayerful reflection, and courageous action on what is of the most importance, and simplifying life according to that value.

Paul had discovered what he calls a surpassing value. Later in the letter he writes, “Whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ. In fact I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” Paul found the one important thing by which everything else would be measured. He had done some major values clarification.

Sometimes these clarifications come involuntarily. Paul certainly didn’t volunteer for prison. He himself is learning these new values in the hard way. Those who have lost their homes in recent northwest fires are discovering the hard way just what is of surpassing value in their lives. If you have ever been seriously ill, you discover what is of surpassing value and what is not. Things become clear, and in their way, simpler. There is a kind of forced freedom and clarity. Paul, in our text, refers to suffering as a kind of mysterious privilege that God grants us in order to come to new places of acceptance and freedom. His imprisonment is a strange gift. Just as our imprisonments and sufferings are strange, complicated and hard blessings. But they lead to clarification and purpose and a discovery of the surpassing value of knowing Christ.

Now this may sound lofty, even unattainable. So Paul gets very practical too. He does not have his head in the clouds. He knows there is good work to be done among and with the Philippians. Since he is convinced of this he says, “I know I will remain and continue with all of you for your progress and joy in faith.” “Only,” he continues, “live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or am absent and hear about you, I will know that you are standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel.”

When I was a pastor in Seattle, our church entered into a couple of arrangements with other congregations over the years. One was a merger. Another nearby Presbyterian church closed and basically moved in with us. It was a great success, a wonderful experience. The merger gave the closing congregation a new home and they gave us new life. It was an unusual blend, and it went unusually well. It was a true merger, two congregations truly became one.

The other experience was a partnership with another local congregation, called the Shoreline Vineyard. They came from a more Charismatic background than we did, were more expressive in their worship, and in other ways were different from us - but we had a good relationship with them. So when the retail building they were in was closed for remodeling they moved in with us. We adjusted our time of worship by an hour, and they worshipped after us on Sunday morning. The Sunday morning result was an energetic, sometimes confusing engagement between two congregations worshipping the same Lord. It did not always go smoothly. They also shared office space with us, and it took time to work through issues that came from living together. After awhile changes in their leadership led to their leaving, but for a time it was a great experiment. Our motto was “two churches serving one city.” They left but there is still a non-profit tutoring ministry that they brought over that is housed in the church space. And I remain friends with the pastors of that congregation.

Unity does not always go smoothly. It takes commitment and dedication. But Paul says that Christian unity is a sign to others. He even goes so far as to say that our unity is a sign of destruction for our enemies. I think what he means is that our unity destroys the notion that many have, with good reason, that Christians are exclusive and judgmental of the world and each other. The proliferation of churches and denominations may be an expression of variety on the one hand, but it also testifies to centuries long divisions among Christians.

But the freedom that Paul talks about here, allows us to experiment and not hold so tightly to our own version of what the church should look like. We can live with what many call a Holy Indifference, that allows us to move forward and take action without being so attached to the outcomes and results. What freedom we would have in all our life’s decisions if we didn’t fear death, the worst that can happen to us.

There is a story told of American philosopher Henry David Thoreau and his friend Ralph Waldo Emerson. In 1846 Thoreau spent the night in prison for an act of civil disobedience – he refused to pay the poll tax which supported the institution of slavery. So to prison he went and his friend Emerson went to visit him, wondering what all this was about. And Emerson asked Thoreau, “Henry, what are you doing in there?” Thoreau answered and said, “Waldo, the question is what are you doing out there?” In here – out there – it didn’t really matter to Thoreau. Live or die – it doesn’t really matter to Paul.

At the end of his letter to the Philippians Paul says, “I have learned to be content with whatever I have. I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and growing hungry, of having plenty and being in need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”

I am struck by Thoreau’s question, “Waldo the question is what are you doing out there?” What are we doing out here? And is there a way we can go about it with a new freedom, sense of adventure, and joy? I am really excited about how our Session is working together these days. They are working together and making good decisions for the church and the community. Let us continue to act freely and boldly in the name of Jesus. Amen.

(Belated Entry) Jeremiah 15: 15-21, August 30, 2020 Sermon by Mark Ferns

It has been about a year since I last stood here. The view has changed. As I look out at the congregation, I see strange sights. Sights that were unimaginable one short year ago. Nearly empty pews occupied by masked figures. Smiling faces hidden from view.  Seems like everything has been turned upside down and I find myself in a different world, a stranger in a strange land.  A world that screams into my ears: Up is Down. Black is White. Right is Wrong.  What was once firm ground feels unsteady and I stand on shaking legs. 

It is oh so easy for me to identify with the words of Jeremiah.  Jeremiah asks of God in a sorrow-filled voice: “Why is my pain unceasing, my wound incurable, refusing to be healed?” Jeremiah cries out to God. “Truly, you are to me like a deceitful brook, like waters that fail.” 

As I sat before my computer this week, trying to come up with words for this Sunday I found myself adrift, at a loss for words. The waters have failed, all is dried up. Where is God in my time of distress? Why do the words evade me? The world that I no longer recognize intrudes and I feel lost. Finding it all too easy to withdraw from the world, huddle up into a ball and engage in a pity party. It is all about me and I am lost.

And then I begin to find myself as I shift the focus from me to Thee. True! We are in a time of change. Things are unsettled and many of the beliefs that anchor us are shaken. We are tossed about by the winds of change. Yet we are also in a time of opportunity. We have been given more tools with which to work. All we need do is to take the tools in hand and let the Lord lead us.

For example, this morning we are blessed with the technology that allows us to share this worship service with the wider community. This digital service reaches out to the wider world so that our words and music can be heard by a much larger audience. In one sense, we have been forced out of our comfortable building and connected against our wills with the wider world. 

True, there is much wrong in that wider world that distracts us from God’s call. All too easy to be distracted by words and images that crowd between us and God, There is also much that is Right if we just take the time to listen.

Really listen. Do not get distracted by the images and rush out into the street.

Stop to listen for the words of the Spirit.

Know that there others who are listening and acting. Today's technology makes it easier for a large number of people to share their spiritual journeys.

One crowd-funded group put together a video series called ‘The Chosen’ that will be explored in an upcoming adult-education class. The Chosen is a fresh reimagining of how the first disciples were called by Jesus. Spoiler alerts. The first disciples are very human and blessed with all of the human weakness that we all have. They lived in a challenging, uncertain time wracked by change. 

As the story progresses, each disciple experiences a moment in which they are called by name. The moment in which everything changes. The same moment that Jeremiah spoke of when he wrote the words ‘Your words were found, and I ate them and your words became to me a joy and the delight of my heart; for I am called by your name, O Lord, God of hosts.’ The Chosen series gives the viewers the opportunity to reflect upon their own spiritual journeys. For some it is the reawakening of emotions felt when first hearing that they too are cherished. Hearing from others that their lives are valued.

Those memories strengthen us in this time of chaos.  When the world overwhelms us, close your eyes, listen and remember. 

Frankly I find that far easier said than done. Difficult to close my eyes. Too much to read.  Too much to see. All too much to ponder. Way too much to worry about.

Dr. John MacArthur of Grace Community Church in Sun Valley, California, offered up one plausible explanation last week for today’s chaos. “Faith is on the decline nowadays, and it is no wonder. Most people in these postmodern times are convinced that it’s impossible to know anything with settled certainty — so they can’t really believe anything, either.” MacArthur is rephrasing what Paul wrote in Romans, “For even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing to be wise, they became fools.”.

There is an ebb and flow to the tides of human history that both Jeremiah and Paul experienced. There are times when the greater world just will not listen. Today it appears that the tide is going out as a changing, insane world proceeds on a disbelieving, downhill path. Today is not a happy time.

Jeremiah’s writings were also in an unhappy time. The Assyrian Empire, which had earlier destroyed the northern kingdom of Israel had itself just fallen to the new Babylonian Empire. Jerusalem was about to fall and Solomon’s Temple was about to be destroyed. Jeremiah’s world was turning upside down.

Jesus lived during a similarly chaotic time. Herod was the powerful king of a united Judea when Jesus was born. The magnificent second Temple had finally been completed. Caesar Augustus was the stern and undisputed ruler of a united Roman Empire and overlord of Judea. As Jesus grows to adulthood Herod dies and Judea is divided up into four parts between Herod’s sister and three of Herod’s sons. Jerusalem came under direct Roman rule after one of Herod’s sons was stripped of power and shipped to Europe. Rome itself begins a descent in chaos and moral depravity during the last days of Tiberius. 

The chaos continued through Paul’s life, culminating in the Jewish Revolt, the destruction of Jerusalem and the Second Temple, the end of both the Jewish Sadducees and the degenerate Nero. Rome is ablaze and the world again in chaos. Yet it is in that time of chaos that the Word became flesh and the first followers called by name. 

In these chaotic days it is difficult to find a quiet place in which to listen.  So I find that I need to try and tune out the background noise and focus on what others are really trying to say.  I encourage all of you to stop and listen. Do not be surprised to hear something unexpected as you listen. Perhaps ‘Noah, how long can you tread water?’ Or perhaps ‘Mark, get your tail end up there and share the Good News.’ Or ‘so and so needs a phone call to cheer them up.’

When making that call or responding to that email take the time to share the Good News. Paul shares the Good News in his letter to the Romans: ‘Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers’

Perhaps that is why I find myself here in this place today. Here to look each one of you in the eye and share Paul’s words: which, crudely paraphrased are: ‘You are worthy. You have value. No matter what, I share the Love of Christ with you. Come what may, I know that God will be with you.’

In this year of chaos 2020 our challenges will be overcome. Indeed the challenges actually present opportunities. Let go of your fears, step back from the raging crowd noises and listen for the quiet voice that calls you by name. Encourage one another, look to the future, let go of the past and continuously share God’s love. Remember what Isaiah wrote of God: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you! I have called you by name, you are mine.” 

Romans 13:8-14, September 6, 2020, Sermon

“The Law of Love”

Pastor Randy Butler

Have you ever thought of yourself as a sentinel? That’s what our text from the prophet Ezekiel invites us to do. What is a sentinel? A sentinel is a guard, someone who stands and keeps watch, and announces warning when an enemy draws close and threatens our welfare. In the case of Ezekiel it is God who calls him to be a sentinel, and gives him the unenviable job of announcing God’s judgment. He is called upon to watch what is going on, pay attention to what God is up to and give warning, whether the people want to hear it or not. He is a sentinel.

The apostle Paul in our text from Romans is announcing that God is up to something. “You know what time it is, now is the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed.” Paul is a kind of sentinel keeping watch on the times and the currents moving in the cultural waters of his day, and announcing that God is up to something big, and that we need to respond. Wake up! Now is the moment!

Are we in one of those wake-up moments? Are we keeping watch? Are we sentinels in our own time? It would be pretty hard to deny that our time is urgent. We are in the middle of a world-wide pandemic, our national political environment is as divisive and poisonous as it has been in our lifetimes. Natural disasters wreak havoc, climate change is undeniable, racism continues to rear its ugly head, there is violence in our cities. The economy is unstable, and unjust. I don’t lightly bring the Book of Revelation into such conversations but I took note at the cartoon of the woman who walks outside in exasperation wondering out loud which chapter of the book of Revelation are we in this week?

Is this our wake up moment? Do we feel Paul’s urgency? Are we watching like Ezekiel is watching, like a sentinel? One of the problems with keeping watch today is that we have different opinions about where the danger lies. I find it disturbing that both presidential candidates are tapping into the danger of the other. “This is what Trump’s America is! Look how dangerous.” “Here is what Biden’s America would look like, see how dangerous it is.” Depending on our political position we see danger in one place or another, one candidate or the other. And just the fact that we are talking in terms of danger this presidential election season tells you how high the stakes have become.

In any case, it does indeed seem like one of those wake-up moments for us. Time to take things seriously, take life seriously. That’s why Paul says, “Let’s lay aside all the carousing - he calls out the Roman’s worst behaviors - no more drunkenness, debauchery, licentiousness, quarreling and jealousy.” Time to wake up and see what is going on, start taking life seriously. Have you ever had one of those wake up calls? I remember when I was in school at the University of Colorado. I wasn’t taking school very seriously, was failing a couple of classes, spending too much time on extracurricular activities of one kind or another. And around the time my grade report came out I got a call from my dad. He was distraught, I think he was even weeping, wondering what was wrong, where had he gone wrong with me, saying how disappointed he was. Well that kind of woke me up. At the end of the quarter I quit school, went to work as a construction laborer for a couple of years, started taking life a little more seriously and eventually went back and finished college. That call from my dad was a wake-up call. Maybe you have had a similar experience – the loss of a job, the loss of a loved one, a failure of one kind or another. These things change us.

Now what is a follower of Christ to do in these times? How do we live the Christ life in a time like this and how might we be sentinels in our time, those keeping watch the best way we know how and announcing warning? Paul suggests a very clear image – it has to do with a change of wardrobe. Lay aside, or take off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light. Brings to mind the letter to the Ephesians and putting on the whole armor of God. Put on Christ says Paul here, wear Christ, adorn yourselves with Christ.

We’ve all heard the saying, “the clothes make the man; the clothes make the woman.” And we say it because there is some truth in it. What we wear gives us an identity – tells us and tells others who we are. If you wear blue jeans, cowboy boots, a plaid shirt and a cowboy hat – I could pretty much tell that you are a cowboy or a rancher. If you are wearing a grey suit, white shirt and tie, with black polished shoes, well that’s something or someone else, a different identity. This is why we like to wear costumes, they give us a temporary change of identity. Well, Paul is saying put on the Christ wardrobe, and you will become more like Christ. We become what we wear. And Paul says wear Christ. Put on Christ.

Now that is a wonderful image but what does it mean that we put on Christ? Well, again it means take on the identity of Christ, and it also means enter into the intimacy of relationship with Christ. Let his life and ways cling to you like a cotton shirt on a warm day. And likewise cling to him. But what do we do, how do we live this Christ life? And Paul offers a very concise summary answer to that question. It has to do with love. He’s been writing before this about being responsible citizens, paying our bills, our taxes. Pay to all what is due them, and owe no one anything. Another translation says, “Don’t run up debts,” don’t be in over your head, beyond your means. Except for the debt of love you owe each other. Be sure that you are paying that bill every month, all the time love one another.

Now we like to be very specific about the Christian life, and so we put rules and regulations to what it means to live this life. You believe this, believe that, you act this way, and you don’t do this or that and that makes you a Christian. Paul knows our tendency to make religion complicated and bound to rules and behaviors. That’s why we have the commandments of the Old Testament, The Ten Commandments. And to keep things very simple, then, Paul says all the commandments like do not murder, do not commit adultery, do not covet, do not steal, - they can all be summed up in one commandment: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” This is what Jesus refers to as the greatest commandment, along with the love of God. Loving God and loving one another as we love ourselves - that forms the core summary of what it means to live the Christ life, to put on Christ. Love your neighbor as yourself, and love God and you will be wearing Christ.

Now that again is all easier said than done, a simple summary but not simplistic. Loving one another is perhaps the hardest thing of all. It often runs counter to everything to which we are naturally inclined – vengeance, jealousy, revenge, retaliation. These are our default reactions. It takes work to overcome them, to respond with love when we have been offended or treated unjustly. That is why when asked, “who is my neighbor?”, Jesus responds by telling the story of a good Samaritan, among the most hated kind of person by Jews of that time. The law of love requires us to love precisely those who we cannot love, or don’t want to love, or think we shouldn’t love. The law of love is counterintuitive in that way, it is countercultural. That’s why Paul says earlier “Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”

Jesus stood for peace and reconciliation in the turmoil and tension of the first century. We who put on Christ are to stand for peace and reconciliation in the 21sth century. Perhaps this is the wake up call for us. Now is the moment to wake from our sleep, our judgments, our ways of retaliation and getting even. Perhaps the wake up call for one is to love the Progressive Democrat next door now, today. This is the time for love - it is urgent. Love that person as yourself now. Or perhaps the wake up call is for another to love that conservative Republic at work or in your family, and to do it soon, without delay. The world has had enough of retaliation, and revenge and insults because it is not making us a better world, it is tearing us apart, and something must change.

We have another way presented to us this morning – to do the hard work of loving those with whom we disagree, whom we dislike and even hate. And we can’t wait any longer, we have to do it now. This is the moment. The night is far gone, says Paul, let us lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light. It is for us to take that call seriously today. Amen.