You can't love in theory

A sermon for Faith Lutheran, Andover

 1 John 4:7-21

“God is love,” says 1 John.

            Two thoughts come to my mind about love in 1 John 4. My first thought is that we don’t say this enough: God is love. Not God loves a lot; not God helps us to love, but God is love. So, if you know love, you know God, which in turn means a few things: Firstly, love is not just a concept and not just a feeling, love is a person. To know God is to know love and vice versa. We don’t say that enough.

But then I have a second thought, which is this: I’m not sure that saying God is love is a good thing in a world that seems absolutely set on cheapening love. Love is more than thoughts and prayers. Love is more than a throw-away, “I love everybody” kind-of-sentiment to make us feel better about ourselves. Love requires self-sacrifice and it forces us to act with mercy—it is lived and actual and real. It is never theoretical—always lived in the flesh. You can’t love a theory, and you can’t love in theory.

            Ewalu campers arrive at camp having had all different experiences with love. Some know deep down that they are loved—they experience it with their family, their friends, and their God. Some hope they are loved—they have hints of it in their lives, but they have times when they really don’t know. Some suspect they are not loved—they have only known it rarely. Some know they are not. Love, to them, is a fairy tale.

Trout and Resurrection

A sermon for Faith Lutheran Church, Marion

Scripture: Luke 24:36-48

In the Gospel of Luke, when Jesus appears to the whole crew of disciples, he asks for something to eat, and I don’t believe for an instant that it was a coincidence that the disciples give him a fish. You may recall that in the Gospel of John, Jesus appears to the disciples on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, telling the disciples to cast their nets on the other side of the boat, while he waits on the shore, cooking—you guessed it!—fish.

            If you trace the fish through scripture, you will find that they are there in the beginning—in the Genesis creation story; they are killed off in the plagues in Exodus; and they are extolled in the Psalms. Ezekiel was certainly into fish as that book mentions them in three separate contexts; and then of course we have Jonah, the biggest of fish. But it is in the life and ministry of Jesus that fish come to the forefront. Fish are mentioned 32 times in the Gospels—from the feeding of the 5000 to the disciples who left their boats to follow Christ. It is little surprise that the fish has become a symbol of Christ—and that Greek word, “Ichthys,” has entered our popular lexicon as a Christian term and acrostic, meaning “Jesus Christ, Son of God. Savior.”

            My ears perk up when I hear about fish in the Bible for another reason: I love to fish. From long days casting for muskies up on Lake of the Woods to slow days jigging for walleyes, casting spinners for perch; and even shore fishing for carp and catfish or leaving traps for minnows. I love to wonder about what is in the water and to discover a little more of that unseen world. But the fishing I love more than any other involves casting a fly in a clear river in search of one of God’s most precious and most fragile creatures: the trout.