Sermon by Pastor Mike Buttonnn

It Sounds Simple Enough
John 15: 9-17

NRS John 15
⁹As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. ¹⁰If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. 11 I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete. 12 "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. ¹³ No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends.¹⁴ You are my friends if you do what I command you.¹⁵ I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. ¹⁶ You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. ¹⁷I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.

May the God of all hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing; for the sake of Jesus the Messiah.  Amen. 

My mother would clean on Saturday mornings.  As a registered nurse, mom kept the house sufficiently sterile for most surgical procedures, but on Saturdays she would really get down to business.  As it happened, Saturday was also the day I practiced to become a world champion sleeper.  My dream was to win a place on the U.S. Olympic Sleep Team.  Already by age 14 I had a personal best of 16.4 hours of continuous sleep, and with discipline and determination I knew that I could soon be snoozing away a cool 18 consecutive hours.  It wouldn’t be easy, but I dreamed of the day when I would awake to find a gold medal hanging from my neck and in my pajama pocket a multi-million dollar endorsement deal from Sealy Posturpedic.  Destiny was calling me; but unfortunately, so was my mother. 

            On Saturdays my mother would usually get started with the cleaning around 8 a.m., but since I was already an accomplished sleep artiste, I could easily sleep through her mopping, scrubbing, sweeping, and dusting.  My highly developed sleep barriers could even resist my mother’s heavy sighs and rising temper as she slammed drawers and banged toilet lids while I slumbered.  But when she got out the vacuum cleaner, that was it, I was toast.  She saved the vacuuming for last, and when she cranked up the old Electrolux, it sounded like a jet engine taking off.  Worse yet, as she dragged it from the den toward the bedroom side of the house, she’d slam that thing against doors and baseboards to wake the dead.  Finally, she’d come crashing into my room, Electrolux roaring, dust bunnies flying, and at the top of her lungs yelling, “I hope I didn’t wake you.” 
How little she understood me! 

At the time, in my pain, hurt, and anguish, I remember promising to myself, actually vowing, swearing on a stack of Bibles,

“If ever I have children, I’m going to support their hobbies. 

I’ll do things for them out of the sheer goodness of my heart. 

I won’t waste their time or mine making them feel guilty. 

Whether they pick up or not,

whether they help out or not,

whether they leave me with all their messes to clean up,

I will not grumble. 

I won’t complain. 

I will love them unconditionally!” 

             Even though my mother passed before we had children, I like to think I’ve kept her amused with the way I’ve so creatively violated all those solemn vows I made about how I would raise my children.  All these years later, I can honestly say: 
I had planned to be a much more sympathetic and understanding parent than I have so far turned out to be. 

I really started out to be a much more gracious and considerate person than I currently am. 

To this day, I still have every intention of loving my friends, family, and fellow humans without condition, no strings attached, for the sheer joy of loving as the angels love.  But so far, it hasn’t quite worked out that way.  In spite of my best efforts and intentions, I cannot love without expecting at least a little payback.  I can’t love without resenting the people who don’t love me back in the way I want them to love me.  I can’t love without getting mad as blazes at the people who take advantage of my love, who sleep while I labor, snooze while I toil, and take their leisure while I work my tail off.  I cannot, in other words, love as Jesus has loved me. 

Today’s Gospel comes from that section of St. John’s Gospel typically referred to as the Farewell Discourse.  In the last conversation Jesus would have with his disciples this side of the cross and the empty tomb, Jesus seizes the teaching moment one last time to instruct his beloved community on the life to which they are called.  First, he assures them of his Sonship.  Then he promises them the blessing of the Holy Spirit.  And as he directs them in the way they should walk in this dark and troubled world, Jesus brings together all his moral insight and his entire ethical instruction into one great commandment:  “Love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12). 

It sounds simple enough.  It’s easy to remember, only eight words.  And clearly, Jesus intends this commandment to be a gift for his friends, explaining, “I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete” (15:11).  And to my mind, at least, there is no question that the path to complete, total joy lies precisely in keeping this commandment, loving as Jesus loved, giving as he gave, serving as he served. 

So you want a good life? 

So you want happiness and satisfaction? 

You want to be remembered as a blessing rather than a curse? 

Then here it is.  Love one another as Jesus has loved you. 

It sounds simple, and it is simple, until we actually start the loving, and then it gets very complicated, very quickly.  There’s not the least bit of doubt in my mind that everyone here this morning really, truly, genuinely wants to love as Jesus has loved you.  I think we’re created for love, hard-wired, if you will, for lives of love and service.  We want to love freely, joyfully, selflessly, without conditions and without strings, and we would, except for this thing we carry around called ego.  I’m constantly tripping over mine. 

I do something nice, and somewhere deep down inside me, I want to be praised for it.  I care for a stranger, and I want to be remembered for my kindness.  I reach out to the poor, and although I’m loath to admit it, there’s always a part of me that wants to be thanked for my graciousness.   I set out to be a servant, but if somewhere along the line I don’t get recognized, or patted on the back, or, God forbid, someone should criticize the work I am doing out of the sheer goodness of my heart, then I grow resentful.  And when I think or even vaguely suspect that my love is being taken for granted, or not properly acknowledged, I can get really, really angry, and mean, and vindictive.  (You can ask my family, but, on second thought, just take my word for it.)

That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do nice things.  It doesn’t mean that I should shun the stranger or ignore the poor.  Nor does it mean that I should let others wait on me, hand and foot, without contributing to their effort or acknowledging their service.  But what it does mean is that I cannot love like Jesus apart from Jesus.  Even with Jesus I am still prone to trip all over my ego; but apart from Jesus, my old sinful self forever dooms me to turn everything I say, do, or think into an expression of my needs, my desires, my hopes and aspirations.    

For you to love me, or for me to love you, as Jesus has loved us, we need Jesus.  We need his forgiveness, compassion, and love.  We need to wash daily in the waters of his baptismal grace.  Every day we need to live with our hearts open and minds tuned to the power of his Living Word.  And when he calls us to his supper, we need to come running to feast on the bounty of his body given and his blood shed for me and for you. 

Jesus lives to love us into a new way of living free from the hazards of our ever- needy egos. 

Jesus lives to love us into a new way of loving free from the desire for honor, recognition, and preferential treatment. 

Jesus lives for us to love one another, as he has loved us. 

In the Name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.