It also takes wisdom and practice to express truth in a way that it lands on others gently and thoughtfully enough without diluting the truth, by translating it into terms others can take on board – subjecting it to the kind of spiritual spell check or firewall Paul describes to ensure what we say and do are consistent with the love of God, so never rude, nor spoken out of impatience or irritation, out of arrogance, envy, or wanting to get our own way. Before we speak the truth or act on what we believe it to be, as Christians we are called to channel out thinking through the various filters of love. That’s hard. Only God’s love is perfect enough to take every facet of truth, mercy and kindness into consideration, but it’s because I have experienced God’s amazing grace first hand that I feel called back time and again to try to love wisely, in the spirit that Paul describes, but when I fail to ‘fess up and draw on the power of forgiveness.
Clearly I am not alone in this cycle of trying to love others but falling short, so needing to call on Christ’s love and the forgiveness that sets us free to try again – Paul admits that he did things he realized that he shouldn’t have, or failed to do the good he intended to do – hence his profound insight into the various demands of love and what it looks like in practice. That is why today’s passage from 1 Corinthians 13 is often read at weddings, although Paul was actually trying to explain the true nature of love to a very cantankerous church community that solved its social differences by separating the rich from the poor when they had their loving-friendship feasts, which were expanded versions of our Communion, so while the wealthy gathered around tables with all kinds of goodies, the rest made do with simple fare. Sadly, the squabbles didn’t stop there – some thought their spiritual gifts were more important than others. Hence the part of his letter we heard last week reminding folk that every member of the body of Christ is equally important, so Christian communities like ours would not be complete without each of you and the gifts you bring to the table. That’s why it is important that we know ourselves and the gifts we’ve been given, so we can develop and put them to good use. However, even when we’ve done our personal inventories, reflecting on our gifts and how we feel called to use them at this point, unless we do whatever in love Paul says it is not doing us much good. Love is crucial – we can be as truthful, eloquent and generous as we like, even to the point of being sacrificial, but while what we say and do may well benefit others, we can’t experience the transformative power of love unless we engage it. If we don’t connect love at work in our hearts with what we do or say, we miss out on the joy that makes our gifts, our offerings and efforts more valuable to us.
Take those of us who play or make music, at any level – our listeners can derive great pleasure and inspiration from it, but we can tell the difference between a piece that’s just rattled off and one that is played or sung with feeling. More to the point, as musicians we know the supreme joy of entering into spirit the music, especially if we offer it as our gift back to God and to others – that’s when its value ramps up because we are doing what we are called to do. The same is true for each of us in whatever spheres of endeavour we are equipped and called to pursue, because once we dedicate our labours to God and the good of others, our work takes on new meaning and value, no matter what roles we play.
As an engineer, my job involved applying scientific principles and following the governing ethical and design codes of practice, but as a Christian vocation I was motivated by something far deeper. My love for others, for all life and creation drove the decisions I made and relationships I forged with colleagues, and anyone else my work might affect. My desk was my altar, as it is for you accountants, lawyers, students and teachers among us, but so are operating tables, work benches, shop and kitchen counters, our dinner and coffee tables – we consecrate them by dedicating what we do at them to God. Along with parents, grandparents, healthcare professionals, one way or another, we are all called to care and be care-givers, including those in the midst of a major life transition, or who have retired, but now have more time and other challenges that teach us what is truly important. Young, old, or somewhere in the middle, no matter what age we are, we are all accumulating experience that brings a better understanding of who and what we are. We all see in a mirror dimly until we are able to see ourselves honestly – but it’s only when we look at ourselves as God sees us so can love and cherish ourselves as God does, that we can dare to know ourselves fully – and it’s only then, when we can fully be ourselves, we can offer ourselves fully in love to others (and accept their love for us).
One of the many remarkable things about Jesus is that even as a young man of about thirty he knew himself – he’d been tempted to be something else in terms of a leader, but he knew he was called to bring good news to the poor, the outcasts, the sick and the blind along with everyone else – so he cast the net wide enough to include everyone in God’s love and offer the promise of redemption to everyone regardless of gender, age, religious, cultural, social background. Up to a point his old friends and neighbours in Nazareth thought it sounded pretty good to bring hope to the hopeless in their community, but as soon as he included gentiles in God’s grace, describing God’s concern for the likes of a widow in Sidon and Naaman the Syrian General, that’s when folk turned hostile. Perhaps they thought God’s mercy and love was in short supply, so had to be rationed out to them and not squandered on others. I cannot pretend to fully understand the concerns and complexities of their situation, but can see that we have entered another period when we are being challenged to think of others in larger numbers than we’ve been used to in recent years. Right now, some of us feel called to reach out to refugees, some to street people, some to our hurting aboriginal brothers and sisters, some to the sick and lonely or others with specific needs – maybe a family member or friend. We each know who is calling us to respond, but nobody can do it all. Thankfully, by being members of a caring community, we are free to do our bit wholeheartedly trusting that someone else is attending to those who we can’t, or don’t feel equipped to help. We are called to share Christ’s work, and share same source of love that loves us for who and what we are. That is called grace, God’s grace – and it is amazing!