The God Who Loves Us
Lent 4B
Ephesians 2:1-10; John 3:14-21
3/22/2009
Jim Melnyk

Some years ago, writer and social activist Robert Roth commented on the lessons for the Fourth Sunday in Lent, year B. He writes, “None of this week's passages include a covenant or related commandments. Yet in the spirit of those life-giving and social order-redeeming covenants, let's let the folks holding up the 'John 3:16' signs at sporting events take a brief rest while we hold up 'John 3:17': 'Indeed, God did not send [God's] Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him'” (Sojourners On-line, 3/2/2009).
        
Roth goes on to write that “God saves lives. God saves souls. God saves peoples. God has not come in Christ to condemn, but to save. In numbers,” writes Roth, “Moses is instructed by a Lord who wants people to live. In the psalm, God's 'steadfast love endures forever' (Psalm 107:1). In Ephesians, God 'loved us,' 'made us alive,' and 'raised us up' (Ephesians 2:4-6).
        
Years ago at St. Mark's I began using a blessing, especially for those who come forward at communion for a blessing rather than the bread and wine. In some sense I had made up for myself, but I realize how much it must have been influenced by passages like we've heard read today. “May the God who creates us, who loves us, and who lives within us, bless us this day and always.” This blessing was my way of speaking about a triune God whom we experience in many ways – but most of all in relationship. A God who comes into this world not to separate us, nor to isolate, nor to condemn us, but rather to love us, to enfold us, and to uplift us as only a loving parent can.
        
But the reality is that we live in world of people who like to draw lines in the sand, who like to build walls to separate and to segregate, people who like to savor and nurture wounds and indignations suffered, either imagined or real. These are the people who believe that God sent Jesus to condemn the world – to bring not only judgment but the shock and awe of punishment as well.
        
However, in spite of how the world often lives, we have a God made known to us in Christ Jesus who prefers to draw circles that welcome and include, who breaks down the barriers we set between ourselves in an avalanche of compassion and grace, who acknowledges suffering and pain – both real and imagined – and then invites us to move beyond the brokenness through the gift of forgiveness and love.
        
Now, in truth, judgment must be real – we must always be willing to be responsible for our lives – for the actions we take – or fail to take in our lives. But with that judgment – and with our willingness to claim responsibility for our actions – comes forgiveness. That's what grace is all about. It's not cheap grace – it does cost us something – it costs us our willingness to claim personal responsibility when we fail.
        
For God so loved the world. For God so loved the world. For God so loved the world, that God cannot imagine condemning the world. For if we read the whole canon of the stories of our faith – if we read all the stories – even difficult stories like the great flood or the exile – God always, always, always finds Godself drawn back to us in love.
        
The question is: What do we do with this wondrous love God offers? What do we do with a God who gives Godself to us in such an incredible torrent of love? How do we respond to such a gift? Is it even in our DNA to respond with the same kind of love in return – love for God – love for neighbor? I submit that it is in the very core of our DNA – that it is the very nature of our being – that it is the heart and soul of who we are as human beings: to love self – to love neighbor – to love God in return. For the very nature of God is relationship. And we are beings created in the very image and likeness of God. We are filled with the very breath of God – the Ruach – the Wind – the Spirit of God. God fills our lungs with life. God's breath causes our very cells to function. God is the glue that holds our bodies together and the potter's hand that gives our bodies shape. It seems almost impossible that we could do anything other than love in return.
        
But we do. We do choose other pathways. We do choose other ways of living out our lives in response to the love of God. We do choose self over others – and often over the good of others. You don't need me to tell you the world has more than enough Bernard Madoffs. AIG execs take the money and run – and how many others wouldn't be tempted to do the same? Ask us how much is enough and we can't answer – though the last estimate I saw a couple of weeks ago was something like $100 million dollars – that's what “those that got” think they would need to feel totally secure about their lives – boy am I out of luck!
        
We live with broken relationships, and when we feel hurt we hold grudges. Even the best of us can easily slip into a “me first” mentality. I'm reminded of Kevin Costner's character, Ray Kinsella, in Field of Dreams. Ray has given of himself throughout the movie. He has been the most unselfish character you can imagine – suffering ridicule for following his vision – risking everything to follow a call. Then, near the very end of the movie, when Terrence Mann is invited to go with the ghostly players off into the corn – off into heaven, Ray argues with Shoeless Joe Jackson. “Him? Why him? I built this field! You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me. I've done everything I've been asked to do. I didn't understand it, but I've done it. And so now I'm asking, 'What's in it for me!'” Shoeless Joe responds, “Is that why you did this? For you? You better stay here, Ray.”
        
This past Wednesday the House of Bishops, meeting for their annual spring conference, issued a pastoral letter. I had expected to see something about the fracture in the Anglican Communion, or how they might be approaching General Convention this summer. Instead, it was a pastoral letter about the economy, about anxiety, and about standing together for social and economic justice at a time when we're all in a world of hurt. Their letter calls us to be a place of hope despite “a culture of scarcity and a deepening crisis that is “both economic and environmental.” Reminds me of Ray in Field of Dreams: What's in it for me?
        
The bishops called us as a church and as a society to repentance for “failure to address the sorry state of national and international economic crises.” They are calling us as the church to “speak a compelling word of commitment to economic justice,” to “speak truth to power, to name the greed and consumerism that has pervaded our culture,” and our failure as a people of faith to be consistently shaped by Gospel values.”
        
So, I thought as I read their letter, what are these so-called “Gospel values” by which our bishops are calling for us to be shaped? Well, along with the famous “For God so loved the world,” John 3:16, we can also remember John 3:17 – that God did not send Jesus into this world to condemn it, “but in order that the world might be saved through him.” And if that is true, then the life and ministry of Jesus must shape us in such a way that we seek to bring wholeness out of brokenness, hope out of despair, freedom out of servitude, life out of death.
        
We need to remember and remind the world that the God who created us is creating us still. We need to remember and remind the world that the God who loved us enough to come among us in the person of Jesus of Nazareth loves us still. We need to remember and remind the world that the God whose Ruach – whose very breath first filled the whole of creation fills us – and lives within us still. We each need to live every day of our lives in this truth and we need to share that truth – that hope – that promise – with a world that often feels lost and alone.
        
What does it mean for us to live as the beloved of God? How are we called to be witnesses to this world – witnesses of a love that embraces and loves rather than separates and condemns? How are we to live out such wondrous love in our own lives as followers of Jesus the Christ?
        
I am reminded of one other blessing that I have used at St. Mark's on many occasions – a blessing whose author is unknown, but which I have recently seen attributed to the Franciscans:
        
“May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships, so that you will live deeply within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression and exploitation of people so that you will work for justice, equality and peace.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so that you will reach out your hand to comfort them and change their pain into joy.

And may God bless you with the foolishness to think that you can make a difference in the world, so that you will do the things which others tell you cannot be done.” Amen.




©2009 Jim Melnyk