What is the world?

Scripture: 1 John 4:1-6

            When reading from the Gospel of John or the letters attributed to John there is a dumb-sounding question that should really be addressed, and it is this: What is the world?

            It's the kind of question most of us would be ashamed to ask because it sounds so stupid. The world is the earth and all that is in it, duh! That’s true, but that’s not the primary definition that John uses, and it’s not the definition Christians often use when talking about things that are spiritual and things that are secular. John sets up this dichotomy between those who are in Christ and those who are in the world that has infiltrated our language as Christians to this day, and I have to admit that on most days I wish this idea didn’t exist because it is so confusing and so appallingly used by those who see themselves as the morality police that it ruins the original intent. It is one thing for John to say, “We are from God. Whoever knows God listens to us, and whoever is not from God does not listen to us.” But it is quite another thing for one of us to say the same thing. I don’t know about you, but I’m always concerned whenever somebody claims God’s authority for what they are about to say because what they use that authority to say is usually offensive and poorly thought out.

            The misuse of this phrase, “the world,” has led to the implication that everything out there is bad and everything in here is good. The idea that there are those set apart who are above reproach in the midst of a broken world may sound nice in principle, but the problem is (if I’m honest) that I can never know on which side of that fence I’m standing. Yes, the world is broken—a quick check of the news is enough to know this is true. War in Israel and Gaza; the mess that is Ukraine and Russia; the killing of Christians in Iraq; Ebola in Sierra Leone and Liberia; plane crashes and tornadoes. The world out there clearly has its problems, but this idea that we are a beacon of righteousness in a sea of godlessness is about as dangerous an idea as a person can have. To say that I am in Christ but he or she is in the world is not only arrogant; it’s an impossible distinction for us to make.

Why this youth trip meant more to me

For all I write I'm usually not very personal. This is mostly by design. I mean, I never much cared for pastors who preached all about their own lives, and I'm not much into self-promotion on the blog. There is a danger in not talking about myself--at a certain point I lose my humanity and become a thinking-head, a writing-automaton. It's posts like this that will hopefully keep me from becoming that. This is going to be more personal than most, and for that I do not apologize in the slightest.

This year marked my third mission trip/service trip/cultural immersion/whatever you want to call what we do with our high school youth each summer (personally I prefer service trip, generally, though this year was more of a cultural immersion). And this year was different than every other year--as it tends to be. Some parts were rough; some parts were great. We persevered and had what I would consider a great trip.

But the reason this trip meant more to me than years' past had little to do with what we actually did. It had far more to do with the relationships built over the course of three years, and (maybe more importantly) it had everything to do with the roller coaster ride I've been on professionally since Natalie was born. Things have been fine at home, but my time and energy has been sapped, and we have had a string of rather serious events in the life of our parish since I returned to the job in April. A change of secretary was tough, especially given the circumstances, then a spate of deaths, including a suicide of a man with a young family and a murder involving family of our congregation were tougher. Finally, in the last month we've lost a couple members who lived good long lives, but, frankly, they always made me happy to visit and, selfishly, I was very sad to see them go.

Almost like falling in love: On service and comfort

Scripture: 1 John 1:1-4

            I’m going to say something radical that you might not believe, but it’s my goal by the end of this sermon that you may not only say “OK, that’s kind of true.” I want more than that. I want this to change you, because it is that important.
            What I want to say is this: “Comfort is the enemy of the meaningful life.”

            OK, that might not be completely radical. You can probably see that there’s at least some truth in that. If you grew up playing sports (or if you play sports still) you know that your success in athletics has a lot to do with how well you the push the boundaries of your comfort in training. If you’ve ever been self-employed or started a business you know how vulnerable, and yet immensely purposeful and gratifying, that can be. If you’ve ever fallen in love you know how scary and uncomfortable that is.

            So, if comfort is our goal, it makes sense to avoid sports, challenging work, and relationships. 

            But for reasons of our own we choose the pain of training, the risk of investment, the possibility of unrequited love, and the messiness of failed relationships. The things that we value the most—the things we talk about around the dinner table—are the very things that are most difficult. Every great story we read—every heartwarming example we have—testifies that life is better when we are impassioned for what is good and true in the world. That is why we serve—it’s a reflection of God’s coming into the world—to serve, not to be served. “The Word became flesh and dwelled among us.” We spend a good deal of energy telling you about the good news that is the incarnation, but we are often confusing when it comes to what that good news actually looks like today. We are freed not to comfort but to servitude. Nothing shows this better than falling in love, and nothing  shows it better in the church than serving in uncomfortable places. The two actually go hand in hand. When we serve, we love.