Sermon for February
1, 2004
4th Sunday after the Epiphany
It’s Not What You Do but Who You Are
Jer. 1:4-10; 1 Cor. 13:1-13
There is a prayer, perhaps you have heard it, perhaps you have prayed it
yourself:
Dear Lord, so far today I’ve done all right.
I haven’t gossiped, haven’t lost
my temper, haven’t been greedy, grumpy, nasty, selfish,
or over-indulgent,
and I’m very thankful for that. But in a few minutes,
God, I’m going to get
out of bed. And from then on, I’m probably going to
need a lot of help.
Amen.
(Anonymous from the
Internet)
That’s an honest prayer! You do feel good when you have any span
of time in your life like that when you’re asleep! But what do you do
when you’re awake and actually relating to people and making decisions
right in the middle of life?
Well, for most of us,
when we are awake, relating to people and making decisions right in the
middle of life we still pray but we offer different prayers; prayers like
this:
God, help me to consider other
people’s feelings,
even if most of them ARE
hypersensitive;
God, help me take responsibility for my own actions,
even though it’s usually not my fault;
God, help me be open to others’ ideas,
WRONG though they may
be;
God, give me patience, and I mean right NOW!
(Anonymous from
the Internet)
Those are honest prayers, too, and accurate, don’t you think? Now it’s
not that we don’t do good things in life, admirable things; but Paul
counsels the Christians of Corinth and says, “Now I can do all kinds of
very good things but if I don’t have love, it makes no difference at all.
Strange tongues, prophetic power, understanding all mystery and all
knowledge, faith to move mountains, generosity that gives away all I have,
even martyrdom are but noisy gongs, clanging bells, nothing, nothing at
all if I don’t have love.” These honest and accurate prayers are
important because they reveal to us how we are doing on that very
important thing—love, which is patient, kind, not envious or boastful or
arrogant or rude, doesn’t insist on its own way, not irritable or
resentful, and does not rejoice in wrongdoing. Paul says its not enough
to do good things, even very good things. You must have love; all these
good things must spring from the purest of motives and integrity of
heart. They must be based in patience and kindness deep inside where
envy, arrogance, and resentment have no place at all.
No wonder this prayer
of the waking Christian resonates so much with us. Can you do this? Can
you do good things with only the purest of motives? Can you really live
this love?
The Scripture says,
no, you can’t. You are not capable in and of yourself to love like this.
Paul uses one of three Greek words
for “love” here. Of the three Greek words for love, two humans can do,
one humans cannot do. Of the three words in the Greek language that
translate into English by the word “love” only two of them are within the
human capacity. Those two are “eros” (romantic love) and “philia”
(friendship). When it comes to “eros” and “philia” (romantic love and
friendship), those are well within the human capacity to love; we can
handle those. But there is another Greek word which is translated into
English as “love,” and that is the Greek word that Paul uses here. Every
time the English word “love” appears in the text, it is not “eros,” nor is
it “philia.” It is that third Greek word which is translated as “love;”
it is “agape.” “Agape”—love that asked nothing in return. Only God can
love like that. Only God is capable of still loving when humanity
continually rejects God throughout the generations. God is the only one
who never gives up but loves again and again. Only God is capable of
giving up an only Son in love. God is love. Love is the very essence of
God. Only god can love and ask for nothing in return. Agape.
You can’t love like
that—not in and of yourself. No matter how many behaviors your seek to
emulate; no matter how hard you try to
be patient or kind;
never be envious or boastful or arrogant or rude;
never insist on your own way;
not be irritable or resentful or rejoice in wrongdoing;
it is simply beyond your human capacity. You cannot learn, you cannot
practice, you cannot try hard enough to attain it. No, this is not love
that you know how to do in and of yourself. This love, you see, is a
gift. This love is a gift of God.
How can you get this
gift from God? Listen to the Scripture as the prophet Jeremiah overhears
God:
Before I formed you in the
womb, I knew you, and before you were born I
consecrated you…
Jeremiah 1:5a
It is a gift, this love. It is a gift. You have that gift already. God
loved you long before you were born. God loves you now. God will always
love you. And God never asked anything in return. You didn’t have to do
a thing. You have this gift from God; you’ve always had it—and it can
grow in you. This love grows in you when you realize just how much you
are loved by God. You see, you were created in God’s image. That image
of God is still there in you. It is “off-center;” it is pushed aside; but
it is still there. The more you draw closer to God the more is restored
in you that image of God in which you were created. The more you draw
closer to the essence of God the more you reflect the image of God in
you.
You can only love
like this to the extent that the image of God in which you were created is
held, cherished, and nurtured at the very center of your life. That’s
what Paul means when he says, “…it is no longer I who live, but it is
Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20). That’s the point of coming to
church; serving Christ in the world;
spending a little bit of time each day
quietly with God.
That is exactly what we receive at the Lord’s table—that gift.
You see, this love is
not so much something you do as it is who you are. This is not a valiant
attempt to change your behavior but a submission of your soul. It’s not
behavior modification, it’s spiritual formation. It’s not simply a matter
of behavior; it’s a matter of the heart. It’s not what you do but who you
are. It is a gift of God that grows in you as you grow in your
relationship to God.
Paul calls this a
more excellent way. If you had a choice between working real hard just
trying to behave yourself everyday or growing in loving relationship with
god, which would you choose? As he describes this more excellent way he
shifts to lyric language--almost a poem. That’s the only way you can
adequately express heart language. What Paul presents here is not a list
of behaviors to be emulated but the flow of life in relationship to God—a
life growing ever closer to the very essence of God, an essence that is
restored more and more each day at the very center of your heart. It’s
not what you do but who you are. This can only be accurately expressed in
heart language. Heart language can only appropriately be expressed
lyrically, maybe only in a poem, or in a song. The prayer of the waking
Christian ought to be each and every morning of life more like the 25th
Psalm:
Unto thee, O LORD, I lift up my soul, O LORD unto thee.
Adapted from Psalm 25 for Choral Anthem by Aulbach
William G. Davidson
South Roanoke United Methodist Church
