Sunday, May 2nd Sermon, given by Chris Huizinga
There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done. Nothing you can say that can’t be sung. Nothing you can say, but you can learn how to play the game. It’s easy. Nothing you can make that can’t be made. No one you can save that can’t be saved. Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time. It’s easy.
All you need is love! Do do do do doooooo…
The Beatles have a sort of soft, prophetic lilt to this song. Tunefully they proclaim the bridging and healing powers of love in the world. You can do anything, go anywhere, save everyone, because all you need is love. However there is one phrase wrapped in the song that I simply cannot, or perhaps do not want to, agree with. It’s small, but don’t over look it. Right there, taunting you before the refrain. Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time – it’s easy.
I subscribe to the idea that there is little about love that is easy. I suppose it really depends what kind of love you happen to be looking at. There is familial love, although I would contend there is twisted love at play when brothers are involved. We could look at comradery/friendship in which I’ve been told many times, “we tease ‘cause we love.” Or take a gander at the angst-filled world of sweaty, hormonal teenage love. Well, then again, maybe we shouldn’t. Spousal, puppy, sexual, platonic, romantic, etal. Love, love, love. There really are various and sundry forms of love.
Every form love takes has a relatively simple recipe with which to follow. First you need to discover your ingredient (i.e.: the person(s) of your desire). Then add a cup of mutual focus. Mix in some emotion, laughter, trust, and comfort. Season to taste with adventure and/or pain. Cooking times may vary based on degree of involvement and depth of desire. Because really, all you need is love. Do do do do doooo…
Man, I should really start my own cooking show! Now I’m certainly no Iron Chef, but perhaps the Beatles were right. My simplistic recipe for love does sound relatively easy. We have our love relationships, we are comfortable, and it can seem to be, well, easy. However this is NOT the kind of love that Christ is talking about in the Gospel.
“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” In all seriousness, doesn’t that make you feel all warm and cozy inside? I have a friend and his name is Jesus. We could chat on the phone, exchange friendly emails every now and again. I love Jesus and Jesus loves me. That sounds like an easy kind of love. But look what Jesus did just there: “Just as I have loved you…”
Hmmmmm, different ball game now. The Gospels are stuffed full of stories all over the place about Jesus making everyone UNeasy in love. Run the gamut from the prodigal son (familial love and social norms turned on their very head), to the calling of the disciples (deep, abiding friendships formed in moments with fishermen), to Jesus sitting down to dinner with just about anyone to ruffle feathers, communing with God amongst the most unsavory of sorts. What better way to show your love than through food, right?!
Jesus uses food as a gathering tool, a call to your senses through your stomach. The way to a man’s heart is, of course, through his stomach. The Gospel today gives a brief contextual phrase, “at the last supper,” that gives reference to what precedes it, but I think more of an explanation may help. John 13 begins with Christ washing the disciples feet, each and every one of the twelve. Then he foretells of his betrayal by Judas Iscariot, who also just received an a-one foot wash from Jesus himself. Background complete, now back to our Gospel. “At the last supper, when Judas had gone out…” Did you catch that? They had eaten, all of them. All of them together, even Judas. Jesus shared his last meal, in fact his last morsel, with the very man who would send him to death.
“Just as I have loved you, you should also love one another.” Jesus communed with and loved his betrayer even after he was well aware where this course of action would lead. THAT is not easy! All of this got me pondering: what would have happened if Judas had not killed himself after Jesus’ death? Do you think the other disciples would or could have loved him after knowing his actions? Are we even capable of such love and compassion? That is the kind of undeniable, uninterruptible, uneasy kind of love Jesus shows us. Ugh, suddenly I want to be a sweaty, hormonal teenager again.
However our love does unfortunately know bounds. We fall short of the example set for us. It is hard for me sometimes not to feel guilty that I cannot (or at least not yet) achieve such loft sights. That guilt merges into frustration and can make a fleeting stab at anger. “Come on, HOW can you love that much?!?!” But then something will happen around me, simple reminders; my wife making me French toast for breakfast (yes, I’m back to food) just because, watching my co-workers tend to and care for one another through the chaos of the Nickel sale, being greeted back from a long day at work by the loud, squeaky voice of our neighbors daughter saying, “hi cwiss.” Little things that make me realize we are all in this together. None of us can live up to the kind of emptying of oneself demonstrated in that one really, REALLY huge action, but we are commanded to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself. No, love is not easy, but if it were easy everyone would be doing it. All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
All you need is love! Do do do do doooooo…
The Beatles have a sort of soft, prophetic lilt to this song. Tunefully they proclaim the bridging and healing powers of love in the world. You can do anything, go anywhere, save everyone, because all you need is love. However there is one phrase wrapped in the song that I simply cannot, or perhaps do not want to, agree with. It’s small, but don’t over look it. Right there, taunting you before the refrain. Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time – it’s easy.
I subscribe to the idea that there is little about love that is easy. I suppose it really depends what kind of love you happen to be looking at. There is familial love, although I would contend there is twisted love at play when brothers are involved. We could look at comradery/friendship in which I’ve been told many times, “we tease ‘cause we love.” Or take a gander at the angst-filled world of sweaty, hormonal teenage love. Well, then again, maybe we shouldn’t. Spousal, puppy, sexual, platonic, romantic, etal. Love, love, love. There really are various and sundry forms of love.
Every form love takes has a relatively simple recipe with which to follow. First you need to discover your ingredient (i.e.: the person(s) of your desire). Then add a cup of mutual focus. Mix in some emotion, laughter, trust, and comfort. Season to taste with adventure and/or pain. Cooking times may vary based on degree of involvement and depth of desire. Because really, all you need is love. Do do do do doooo…
Man, I should really start my own cooking show! Now I’m certainly no Iron Chef, but perhaps the Beatles were right. My simplistic recipe for love does sound relatively easy. We have our love relationships, we are comfortable, and it can seem to be, well, easy. However this is NOT the kind of love that Christ is talking about in the Gospel.
“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” In all seriousness, doesn’t that make you feel all warm and cozy inside? I have a friend and his name is Jesus. We could chat on the phone, exchange friendly emails every now and again. I love Jesus and Jesus loves me. That sounds like an easy kind of love. But look what Jesus did just there: “Just as I have loved you…”
Hmmmmm, different ball game now. The Gospels are stuffed full of stories all over the place about Jesus making everyone UNeasy in love. Run the gamut from the prodigal son (familial love and social norms turned on their very head), to the calling of the disciples (deep, abiding friendships formed in moments with fishermen), to Jesus sitting down to dinner with just about anyone to ruffle feathers, communing with God amongst the most unsavory of sorts. What better way to show your love than through food, right?!
Jesus uses food as a gathering tool, a call to your senses through your stomach. The way to a man’s heart is, of course, through his stomach. The Gospel today gives a brief contextual phrase, “at the last supper,” that gives reference to what precedes it, but I think more of an explanation may help. John 13 begins with Christ washing the disciples feet, each and every one of the twelve. Then he foretells of his betrayal by Judas Iscariot, who also just received an a-one foot wash from Jesus himself. Background complete, now back to our Gospel. “At the last supper, when Judas had gone out…” Did you catch that? They had eaten, all of them. All of them together, even Judas. Jesus shared his last meal, in fact his last morsel, with the very man who would send him to death.
“Just as I have loved you, you should also love one another.” Jesus communed with and loved his betrayer even after he was well aware where this course of action would lead. THAT is not easy! All of this got me pondering: what would have happened if Judas had not killed himself after Jesus’ death? Do you think the other disciples would or could have loved him after knowing his actions? Are we even capable of such love and compassion? That is the kind of undeniable, uninterruptible, uneasy kind of love Jesus shows us. Ugh, suddenly I want to be a sweaty, hormonal teenager again.
However our love does unfortunately know bounds. We fall short of the example set for us. It is hard for me sometimes not to feel guilty that I cannot (or at least not yet) achieve such loft sights. That guilt merges into frustration and can make a fleeting stab at anger. “Come on, HOW can you love that much?!?!” But then something will happen around me, simple reminders; my wife making me French toast for breakfast (yes, I’m back to food) just because, watching my co-workers tend to and care for one another through the chaos of the Nickel sale, being greeted back from a long day at work by the loud, squeaky voice of our neighbors daughter saying, “hi cwiss.” Little things that make me realize we are all in this together. None of us can live up to the kind of emptying of oneself demonstrated in that one really, REALLY huge action, but we are commanded to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself. No, love is not easy, but if it were easy everyone would be doing it. All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
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