My 2nd sermon in Intro to Preaching Class

This sermon is a lectionary sermon. As I understood lectionary preaching, I was supposed to pull in all of the lectionary readings--maybe not refer to them, but have them lurking in the background of the sermon.
The other lectionary texts for this Sunday were John 10: 11 - 18; Psalm 23, and Acts 4: 5 -12

A reading from the 1st epistle of John (I John 3: 16 – 24)
We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. How does God's love abide in anyone who has the world's goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action. And by this we will know that we are from the truth and will reassure our hearts before him whenever our hearts condemn us; for God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. Beloved, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have boldness before God; and we receive from him whatever we ask, because we obey his commandments and do what pleases him.  And this is his commandment, that we should believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he has commanded us. All who obey his commandments abide in him, and he abides in them. And by this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit that he has given us.

This is the word of the Lord.
(Thanks be to God.)


We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us. With the events of Holy Week still fresh in our minds, these words conjure vivid images. Jesus tied to a post—pain in his eyes, his body slumping a little lower with each lash of the whip. Jesus carrying the cross through winding, narrow streets—his raw shoulders and back sagging under the weight of the cross and the pain it’s inflicting. These words bring forth haunting sounds. The snap of the whip tearing his flesh. With each lash, a gasp from Mary Magdalene. The pounding of the nails; the thud as the now-lifted cross falls into its appointed slot. Rasps as Jesus struggles to breathe on the cross. His words “It is finished.” We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us.”

Yes, so soon after Holy Week, these words seem to evoke his painful death on the cross. Then the author of this epistle says “and we ought to lay down our lives for one another.” That makes me want to run away as fast as I can. I can’t answer that call to discipleship. Maybe you can, maybe not. To willingly, obediently, quietly endure a gruesome, painful, slow death? Why would God ask such thing of us? (pause) Does God ask this of us? Maybe we are not clearly seeing what is on the page.

Maybe we need to get our eyes checked, find out if the prescription in our spectacles (you remember Calvin and spectacles, don't you?) needs to be changed. Visit the optometrist, and let her pull what looks like a big viewfinder up to our eyes. One by one, she’ll flip a series of lenses. As she does, she asks through which lens in this pair are we seeing more clearly. She works with the left eye, then with the right eye. When she’s finished, as we look through the final set of lenses, we can we clearly read what’s on the bottom line of the eye chart—G-R-A-C-E. Yeah, maybe we need to get our spiritual eyes checked in order to better understand what this passage is telling us today.

The corrections to our prescription will include reading this passage through the lens of other scripture-- the complementary texts assigned for this Sunday in the lectionary. They include the Good Shepherd passage in the gospel of John, Psalm 23, and the account of Peter testifying before the Jewish religious leaders in the book of Acts. Speaking of the lectionary, our new prescription will correct for the lens of where we are in the liturgical year. And, our new prescription will account for understanding this passage through the lens of the Word, with a capital “W” –Jesus.

John tells us the Good Shepherd knows his sheep and they know him. Have you ever thought about how a shepherd watering his flock at the same watering hole as other shepherds can keep his sheep separate from those of the other shepherds? Well, he can’t. Those sheep intermingle with each other, pushing and shoving to get to the water. The shepherd just stands back and watches them all. But when he is ready to move his flock on, he gives a call, his signal. The sheep that belong to him recognize his voice. They leave the water, and follow the sound of his call. At night, he builds a sheepfold and lays himself across the opening so that the sheep can sleep safely. If someone comes to the gate of that sheepfold to lead them out, they won’t follow unless it’s their shepherd. They recognize him. They respond to his voice. The Good Shepherd knows his sheep, and they know him.

They know he will lead them to water and grass. They know he will walk slowly, so that they can keep up. They know he will build the sheepfold and will stay with them through the darkest part of night. They know he will be there when they wake up in the morning, ready to eat more grass and drink more water. They know he will spend his life with them.

Jesus says “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” There’s that phrase again. But here it’s in the context of relationship with his flock. The Good Shepherd will provide sustenance, care, rest, and protection for his flock. The good shepherd won’t run away when the wolf comes to snatch and scatter the sheep. And the sheep know that! The Good Shepherd remains in relationship with the flock no matter what happens. We are that flock! Even when the wolf of hunger, poor health, bad news, disappointment, poverty, or despair tries to snatch one of us or scatter us, the Good Shepherd is here, with us. He faces that wolf. He looks it in the eye and says, “You have to come through me before you can get to my sheep.” My sheep--we are those sheep.

According to the liturgical calendar, we are on the other side of Holy Week. Not only has Jesus died, but he has also risen from the grave. Death has no claim on him. During the last three weeks, we’ve read, pondered, and rejoiced over resurrection stories. Jesus appearing to Mary Magdalene, comforting her. Jesus appearing to a group of his disciples, who are huddled behind locked doors, dispelling their fear. Jesus walking with two of his followers, explaining the scriptures, telling why the Son of Man had to die, and breaking bread with them. Jesus grilling fish on the beach, waiting for his disciples to bring their boat back to shore. By now, the fourth Sunday of Easter, we know Jesus has risen. He has risen indeed! Death has no claim on him.

So, when we read “he laid down his life for us,” focus on the words “life” and “us.” Jesus spent his life in loving relationship with God. His love was active, visible, and tangible. It was not ethereal words or concepts to ponder, but actions to observe, to enjoy, and to participate in. He drew others into that loving relationship---especially those who thought they didn’t matter, those on the outside. “He laid down his life for us” means he spent his life loving God and loving others. We are those “others.” Jesus draws us into loving relationship with him and with God.

We are not called to willingly, obediently, quietly endure a gruesome, painful, slow death. Instead, we are called to spend our lives in loving relationship with God and with each other. “Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” We are called to love in active, visible, and tangible ways: to provide emotional, physical, & financial support for our seriously ill classmate; to fast from speaking to raise awareness of how our society and our church silences our GLBT sisters and brothers; to take lecture notes and outline assigned readings to share with our hospitalized classmate; to cook meals to feed our classmates with newborns.

Spending our lives seeking to invite others into relationship with God and with us requires energy. It requires creativity, courage, and love. It requires trust; trust in Jesus, our Good Shepherd, who promises to send us the Holy Spirit. She is the one who will sustain us. She is the one who will guide us. She is the one who will blow on the coals of the love that Jesus lit in our hearts. In the Acts passage, we see evidence of the Holy Spirit.

Peter stands before the Jewish high priests proudly testifying that the power of Jesus’ name has healed the lame man who begs at the gate of the temple. This is the same Peter who fell asleep in the garden when Jesus asked him to pray and keep watch. This is the same Peter who skulked around the edges of the fire in the courtyard. This is the same Peter who three times flatly denied any relationship with Jesus. But, here in Acts, Peter accuses the religious leaders, “You crucified Jesus of Nazareth, but God raised him from the dead.” Where did the faith to heal that lame man come from? Where did the courage to speak boldly? The Holy Spirit—the same Holy Spirit Jesus promises to send to us.

“We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us--and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. . . And by this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit that he has given us.” Laying down his life for us, is about living, not dying. Laying down our lives for one another is also about living. It's about living in community not isolation. This call is a call to relationship. We need not fear this call. Instead, we can be assured that God has given us proof that our Good Shepherd is with us. God has given us the Holy Spirit who gives us the strength, the courage, and the wisdom to lay down our lives for one another—to love one another.

Context: my classmates--hence the reference to Calvin & spectacles, the reference to liturgical year/lectionary, and the examples of helping classmates.

Changes I would make: Stick with just the "laid down his life for us" and the "lay down our lives for one another" theme. Don't try to weave in an explanation of the Holy Spirit's aid in that. So, I would cut the next to the last and the next to the next to the last paragraphs---bringing in the Acts reading of the lectionary. I would also cut re-reading verse 24--"And by the is we know . . . " in the last paragraph.

What do *you* think?