Sermon: "See How They Love Each Other!"

Texts: Matthew 22:34-46, 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8

 

People often ask me, when I tell them about my work, about my ministry—“Aren’t you afraid?”

And I always have the same answer—“No, I am not afraid. I feel tremendously privileged to get to know the brave men and women who are struggling to survive here in the county. I’m honored to know the people I call friends.”

And every word of that is true.

But the truth is, I am also afraid.

Every day, I am afraid.

I am afraid that the three little babies who came to the church door the other day with their parents—I am afraid that they do not have a safe place to stay tonight or enough to eat.

I am afraid that the old man who looks like my grandpa and who is sleeping out in the cold—that he will not get the care he deserves and that he will die alone—and no one should die alone.

I am afraid that the young woman who is carrying a child—that, as hard as she is trying to do the right thing, that she will not be able to find a stable, safe place to raise her baby, a place that even has running water and electricity.

I am afraid that the talented kids I meet—the artists and the musicians and the writers—that they won’t be able to grace this community with their talents because they are struggling too hard to survive or they end up spending too much of their time in jail.

I am afraid that the kid who is hanging on by a thread to hope—that he will give up and overdose just to escape the pain.

I am afraid that people living in the apartments buildings of downtown Aberdeen will go without heat this winter as they pay most of their paycheck toward rent for buildings that are never maintained.

I am afraid that the gal with chronic health issues will die before she gets the help she needs.

The worst thing in the world is to watch those you love die.

I am afraid, my brothers and sisters, I am afraid. Every day.

I’m afraid that this violence of poverty, this violence of houselessness, this violence of want—will continue. I’m afraid of the realities that divide us.

Those of us with homes and those of us without homes—those of us who have jobs and those of us who can’t find work—those of us who are English speakers and those of us who are Spanish speakers—those of us from “good” families and those of us from “bad” families.

I am afraid most of all that we won’t learn how to love each other in time. That we won’t remember Jesus’s commandments—

“Love God with all your heart, mind and soul. And love your neighbor as yourself”

I am afraid, my brothers and sisters, I am afraid.

 

In our second reading, Paul is also afraid. Paul is known to us as perhaps the founder of Christianity. The man who traveled throughout what is now Turkey and Italy, building the Jesus Movement. He’s a complicated guy, Paul is, but he also a person of great passion.

The letter we read this morning was one of the first letters he wrote, to the community of Thessalonica, a Greek trade city. Paul had spent time in the city, building a congregation of people there. He had come to Thessalonica from Philippi, where he’d been beat up pretty bad and spent time in jail. In Thessalonica, he didn’t fare too much better and eventually was run out of town by the city council and some of his followers there were beat up by a mob.

So, now Paul is worried. He is afraid for the community he had grown to love in Thessalonica, so he writes to them, pouring out his heart.

He writes that he didn’t only want to share the gospel with them—the good news that God is with us in Jesus—but he says he wanted to share his very self. He was willing to suffer—to get beat up—eventually even to die as he does years later—for those he loved, for the people he loved.

He knows that the Thessalonian community is facing great struggle. Living under the Roman empire, facing opposition from the religious leaders, and from the city council, he know they were a suffering community. They were grieving people who had died, they were struggling to survive.

And so Paul writes them out of his fear for them, out of his love for them. He writes to tell them of his love. And he writes to encourage them. He tells them in the rest of the letter—the only way you are going to get through this, the only way you are going to win in the end—is to love each other.

To take care of each other. The only way to live and survive under empire was to love each other. This was Jesus’ message—this was Paul’s message.

And the Thessalonian community did suffer.

And they learned to love.

They become one of the significant communities following Jesus in that first century. They became known for their love. Love in the face of violence. Love in the face of suffering.

You want to know my dream for this community, my dream for the harbor?

Its that we will become known for our love. That we will follow Jesus so faithfully in this town, that we will hear the words of Jesus so closely in this town—that we will learn to love each other. That we will be known for our love.

Love in the face of suffering, of violence.

And lets be clear. Love is not some warm, mushy feeling. Love is one of the most courageous things we do. It means that we put our lives on the line for each other. That we look after our children and our young people. That we treat each other as full human beings, with respect, knowing that-in every person is the image of God, no matter who they are or where they came from or what they are dealing with. It means that people get the support they need to become the full children of God that they are. It means that no one goes hungry and no one shivers in unheated apartments. It means we make the commitment to each other and our communities that, to the best of our ability, no one dies alone.

More than anything, my brothers and sisters, it means sharing in joy! Sharing in life together. With love, with true love in action, comes joy. No one in this town is a problem to be fixed. No one in this town is anyone less than a child of God.

When we live like this is true, we find joy, we find prosperity, we find hope.

Is it possible that Aberdeen, WA, that the harbor could be that place? That the world could look at us in these changing and difficult times and say—see how they love each other! Like the ancient Jesus Movement of Paul? Like the Thessalonians?

I see a lot of love in this town, my brothers and sisters. I see it when Mary V talks to high schoolers about their dreams. Or when someone gives their last dollar or turns the other cheek, which is awfully hard to do. I see people encourage each other and love each other every day.

But I see the violence of poverty, the violence of need, the violence of abandonment every day too.

And I dream, my brothers and sisters, I dream. I dream that we can live out our faith in love and joy in this town, this harbor I love so much.

I have to tell you something. Paul talks about his deep love for the community of Thessalonica. As I have continued work here on the harbor, the place I grew up, I have grown to love this place. So. Much.

It is because I love this place I am afraid.

And it is because I love this place that I dream. Let us so transform this town, this harbor—so that all the world might see and might say—“See how they love each other!”