Sermon by Amy Pagliarella | April 28, 2024 | Fourth Presbyterian Church

Fifth Sunday of Easter
April 28, 2024

Because God First Loved

Amy Pagliarella
Parish Associate

Psalm 23
1 John 4:7–21

In her latest book, the popular author Anne Lamott describes how, during a particularly difficult period in her life, she came across the first letter of John — the book of the Bible we’re hearing from this month. She admits she’s paraphrasing here, but she writes that 1 John says this: “Reach out to people and don’t be a jerk.”

“Reach out to people and don’t be a jerk”: this pithy summary not only describes John’s first letter but, it could be said, the entire Christian life!

If only it were that simple.

(The fact that John needed to write two more letters shows that it is not.)

As Pastor Nanette shared with us last week, the author of 1 John writes to a community torn apart by conflict. Some members of the community have left, and while I will not be so bold as to call them jerks, it sounds like they weren’t particularly loving on their way out the door.

John writes to those who remain — the folks who have chosen to stick with this little community of Jesus followers — to do the best they can to follow Jesus’ example. This way, John assures them, when Jesus returns to earth, they can greet him, unashamed, confident that they have been living in the best possible way.

And the best way to live, John believes, is to love. He’s so sure about this, that he uses the word love twenty-seven times in today’s passage alone! But as scholar N. T. Wright says about John’s instruction, “How easy to write, … how hard to achieve.”

And yet, how necessary — then and now. Isn’t this what the world needs now — love, sweet love?

When I read yet another article decrying the lack of civility in our world or I listen to a friend describe the culture of unkindness that has infiltrated their workplace or friend group, I trick myself into imagining that this kind of meanness is new.

We sometimes attribute it to social media, and we imagine there used to exist a golden age of politeness “where seldom was heard a discouraging word.” We yearn for a return to these good old days.

But no, human conflict has been around as long as there have been humans! So we keep on reaching out. We keep loving.

And we love — because God first loved us.

We love — because God first loved us.

This is the key to John’s letter. John writes of love with the Greek word agape — the highest form of love. Agape love is unconditional, sacrificial, gracious, and charitable. It’s the love God has for people and that we have for God. It’s not brotherly love, not romantic love. The Bible does describe these other kinds of love between people; only this word agape captures the love God has for us.

Agape love is the story of the Bible. From the very beginning, God loves. And then God creates.
God doesn’t stand back and wait to see if creation is worthy of love. God simply declares all of creation good. And God declares us, humanity, very good.

Then God reaches out. With love. Again and again, and always with love. God doesn’t show up and wait for us to earn God’s love. Imagine if we had to put our “best foot forward,” performing for God to prove that we are worthy? We could never be our truest selves.

Don’t you think that this is true in our interactions with others as well? When we don’t know if we are loved, when we feel unappreciated, we don’t bring our best selves to the table. How can we? If life feels like an anxious performance, in which we try to prove we are worthy of love, how can we be our truest selves? Let’s remember: Jesus looks at us and loves us, and that makes all the difference.

I once served a church experiencing a lot of conflict (imagine that!). And I found myself at odds with a colleague who I believed was endangering our congregation’s safety. Once this situation came to my attention, I got right on it, with a flurry of phone calls and emails as I tried to fix the problem. Soon I realized that my actions were embarrassing my colleague, leading to anger and resentment. So I took a deep breath, stepped back, and I realized two things:

1. I was right!

2. It didn’t matter, because I was being a jerk.

Yes, the issue of church safety was essential. But the harder I hammered away at the problem, the more self-righteous and insufferable I became. So, I backed off and found a different path forward to address the issue, without throwing my colleague under the bus. I sacrificed some pride but strengthened my relationship with a sibling in Christ. Because how could I say “I love God” and then treat another human this way?

It was messy. But what better place to work through the messiness than here, at church? In today’s reading, John addresses the church as agapetoi. There’s that word again, agape. Agapetoi. Beloved. John writes, “Beloved, let us love one another because love is from God.” We come to church to experience that love and, I hope, to be inspired to share it with the world. We don’t come here because we have it all figured out. Church can be a kind of “spiritual gymnasium” where we exercise the “muscles” of kindness, patience, curiosity, and — yes — love. We practice following Jesus. And if it’s messy, well, we keep practicing. As one of my children’s teachers used to say, “Practice doesn’t make perfect. Practice makes progress.”

Anne Lamott shares a friend’s story that illustrates this best. The pastor of a tiny church put a notice in the church newsletter saying, “I’m starting a radical Jesus group. If you’re interested, show up.”
Twenty people came. They sat in a circle, and the pastor announced that she wanted to follow the radical Jesus, he of service and reckless love, and she was going to need others to do this with her. She didn’t quite know what that might look like, though.

A few people said they needed a homeless shelter in the church and should start serving meals. Another suggested that a nearby radio station was spewing hate and they should counter with a Pride festival. Still others wondered if they could convert the church to solar power and take better care of God’s creation. Everyone was full of ideas. But when they were done, the pastor said, “This is all good stuff, but I feel exhausted. Your ideas seem to spring from anger and despair. I don’t know how we’re going to do all this. Why doesn’t everybody go pray about it and come back next week?”

The next week, most people came back, but they’d had time to prepare their arguments. Why the group should do one thing, shouldn’t do another. By the end of the session, the pastor said she was already regretting that she asked for a radical Jesus group.

Then someone suggested, “Maybe we should be radical Jesus to each other before we go out and help the world.”

The pastor jumped on this. She asked everyone to go home and pray for what they needed, asking God how the radical Jesus of crazy compassion could help.

Only ten came back the next week. But they came with requests. One said she struggled with her health and wanted to lose weight. She thought if she could take a walk every morning she would feel better; would someone walk with her? Two women raised their hands.

Another said that she loved to host people in her home, but the last time she had, she forgot that her guests were vegan and gluten-free. She was so embarrassed that she hesitated to have anyone over again. Would someone be willing to come to her house for dinner? Yes, please! Every hand went up.

Anne’s friend admitted that he was spiraling out of control with workaholism and distraction. He needed someone to sit and pray with him. He knew he wouldn’t bring himself to do it unless another person sat with him in the silence and just let God love him. The pastor took him up on this one.

She called him every week to invite herself over, and he’d say, “Well, I got a lot going on — deadlines, etc. I can’t do it today.” And the pastor would say, “You asked me to hold you accountable, so I’m going to come over anyway and I’ll just sit on your porch.”

Anne writes, “He’d meet her on the porch. And it was gorgeous.”

And here’s the thing. After the group members had been caring for each other for a while, the original dreams came true. They remodeled the church basement to create showers for the unhoused, started a soup kitchen, went solar, and helped start a Pride parade for the town.

“Funny how this love business works,” Anne concludes.

Funny, indeed.

Reach out. Love. Repeat. Amen.