Love Is Impossible

“LOVE IS IMPOSSIBLE”
I Corinthians 13
Faith United
November 18, 2007


I’ve decided that it’s impossible
following Jesus, being the Church
being Christians
Let’s be honest
Love your enemies? Who’s going to do that?
Pray for those who hate you? C’mon…
A Republican love a Democrat? And vice versa?
Wash each other’s feet?
Of course, Jesus just meant that symbolically
he didn’t really want us to do something
that disgusting
You mean look on someone who does something
or believes something that repulses us
offends our deepest sensitivities
or just plain smells funny?
And LOVE that person?
Forgive someone who betrayed us?
Someone who shattered our heart
seemingly beyond repair?

Do you read your Bible??
It’s absurd what Jesus wants us to do
It’s just plain ridiculous and impossible
But we manage to get around it, don't we?
We can quote verses that assure us
we can justifiably hate someone else
but ignore the verses that tell us to love
for Christ’s sake
We remember “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth”
in the Old Testament
when we want to justify revenge
but we forget that Jesus said that that is the OLD way
and the new way says simply, “love your enemies.”
We conveniently forget those parts of the Bible
that contradict our natural human tendencies
I understand that
I do it too
I mean, hey, I’m not Jesus
I can’t do what Jesus did
never mind that he told me to
he didn’t really mean that
he knows I can’t, surely,
and surely, he will understand?

I love this passage,
but if you really read it, it’s not a flowery poem
that you can hear without being disturbed
Maybe we’ve heard it too much
or read it too much in counter cross stitch
maybe the words don’t hit us
as radical and impossible and downright offensive
but they are

Love, as Jesus demands it, is impossible
Sometimes I use this passage at weddings,
which is not uncommon
But even then, cmon…
Love is patient?
Love it kind?
It does not insist on its own way?
Love bears all things, believe all things,
hopes all things, endures all things?
Who can live up to that?
and I think that if the couple in front of me
about to take their vows
weren’t numbed out on the words
as most of us are
they would tremble in their fancy shoes
and maybe even run….
Is that why lifelong commitment
is increasingly unpopular?
Because we don’t believe it’s really possible?
A lot of people don’t believe it’s possible
and there are a lot of forces in our world
that work at destroying such ideals…
It gets even more impossible
when you take the passage into context
This is not just about love between lifelong partners
this is not about romantic love
Not that it doesn’t work great on a Hallmark card
or in a wedding service
but that’s not it’s original context
Paul was talking to a church in the city of Corinth
a church he started
a church that I think he regrets starting sometimes
if he were honest
(I think I’ve served that church myself, a couple of times
in the past
He is far more gracious than I believe I was
when I was serving there)
Corinth is an impossible church
One can say they have a lot going against them
I mean, look at the world around them
They were surrounded by exciting pagan temples
where the members seem to have much more fun
at worship than the Christians did
Their services were louder, more exciting
they didn’t seem quite so uptight about things
The pagans often had temple prostitutes
and human sacrifices
lots of blood and sex and even violence
But some of those pagan temples
had really smart people, too
people who were charismatic
people who could stir people up
get their emotions charged up
They had leaders who were intellectually brilliant,
some of them
some of them had books on the bestseller list
TV shows, they were a household word
They gave the people everything they wanted to hear
they didn’t ask them to do anything
that was impossible
Corinth was a city in a port
where foreigners came through all the time
bringing their own cultures, their money
their ideas
that made this little Christian church
look like a bunch of country bumpkins
who knew nothing of the real world
The Christians of Corinth
didn’t want to be country bumpkins or nerds
or to be accused of being naïve
They wanted to be just as good as everyone else
Some of them among them were really smart, too
some of them were spiritual celebrities
and had a special charisma
Some of them were really talented, well-read
so they wanted people to know that
they were just as good
as the pagans down on 98th street
There were rich and poor
at First Church Corinth
all worshipping together
And it got to be that the rich would start
to look down on the poor among them
they’d take more than their share at the Lord’s Supper
so that there was none left over for the poor
Some among them decided they were better Christians
than the others
because they were so smart
or they had special gifts that dazzled and impressed
or they could talk so eloquently
or sing so beautifully it made you cry
Sure, they had a lot of fights
at their board meetings
about who was right and who was wrong
they fought about who had special privileges
because they had more money
or who really didn’t have any say in anything
because they were dirt poor
They fought bitterly over who was good enough
and who should be left out
who was righteous and who was a filthy human being
And to THIS crowd,
Paul writes this letter --
which, I think, under the circumstances,
is very gracious of him --
He sees that because of the influence
of the world around them,
the Christians at Corinth have lost their vision
of what sets them apart as the Church of Jesus Christ
Or even what being “set apart” really means
And what he calls for
is just plain impossible
What he is asking them and us to do
is impossible
it’s unnatural
Love, he says,
Love one another, just like Jesus said,
Love one another, For Christ’s sake!!
and he means that literally
If we could take ONE LINE from this passage
and focus on just that one line
what a difference it would make
Love is kind
Love is KIND
What if we made kindness our goal every day?
What if everybody did?
What if Christians stopped trying to determine
who’s better than who
who’s damned and who’s not
and just focused on being like Jesus
in everything we do
Can you imagine what would happen to the whole Christian church?
Love is KIND
It is not envious or boastful
Love is NOT RUDE
Love does not insist on its own way
Love does not insist on its own way
What if we had that as our mission statement
before every meeting?
Before every decision is made?
We live in a world where what matters most
is our own happiness
We seem to have gotten the idea
that the goal of life is happiness
Which means, contentment
which means, being comfortable, undisturbed
Which means not doing something
that is uncomfortable or difficult or risky
In our world it seems, the goal is to avoid all pain
at all costs
as if we are ENTITLED to painlessness
We are ENTITLED to not be uncomfortable
or awkward or perhaps appearing stupid
The laws in our society
are about feeling good
I understand, I want to feel good too
I don’t want to hurt, I don’t want to be embarrassed
I don’t want to do something that
I may not be very good at
But Paul is saying that the way of Jesus
is different
the way of Jesus is LOVE
not giddy, romantic, always feeling good love
Love that bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, and endures all things
Not love that is only practiced when it feels good
not love that is temporary
or love that is only there as long as I get what I want
We’re called to something much much bigger than that
as Christians
People are always looking for the purpose of life
the meaning of life
like there’s some big answer
that will solve everything
like a really good pill
that will make all the hurting go away
But according to Paul, LOVE is the purpose of our lives
We were created to love
to be loved, yes, but to give love
in all that we do
What we do for a living is not nearly as important
as how we do our living
Do we give life with our words?
Do we give kindness?
Do we give peace?
But… but.. but.. we say
what about when… and then…. and then there’s this…
and we can come up with all kinds of understandable
circumstances
where we think that we are exempt from loving
the way Jesus loves
because in some situations
it’s just plain impossible
And what would Paul say?
Yep
Keep trying
Keep striving for the ideal
keep reaching for the highest point
Keep seeing the image of Jesus
and keep on living toward that
Because, the bottom line is, nothing
nothing else in this world matters
Nothing lasts forever
nothing, except love
We sometimes live like we’re going to live forever
we get offended when something hurts us
as if we should never hurt
We get offended when something too hard
is asked of us
We get offended when we’re called to look at someone
with Jesus’ eyes
instead of trying to burn them in hell
Everything else comes to an end, Paul says
Intellectual achievement, really impressive awards
huge bank accounts
really good promotions
popularity, sexiness, youth, vitality
all of it comes to an end
and the only thing that lasts forever,
is love
So don’t you think love is something worth striving for?
Paul says, when we were kids,
we could act like kids
we could insist on our own way,
we could fight over toys
and throw a tantrum when we didn’t get
what we want
but we’re not kids anymore
when we become adults
we grow up in Christ
and put an end to childish ways
Love is costly
love is worth the cost
Love is life-giving, life-sustaining
Love gets you through the most devastating of times
and gives life meaning
Love bears all things
Love believes all things, hopes all things
and Love ENDURES all things
for Christ’s sake
and love is the only thing we have
that never ever ends….
I want to read a piece that I found
written by a newspaper columnist in Ohio
on the subject of Love

This is by a man named Mike Harden, who wrote:
"When Frank Steger pushed himself into an upright position
in the hospital bed, the heart monitor's fluid cursive line
disintegrated into an erratic scribble.
He was suffering from congestive heart failure.
His wife Mary returned to the room, drawing a chair to his bedside.
'Thirsty,' he complained.
She lifted the straw to his lips
as he pulled the oxygen mask aside.
The medicine made him sick then.
She fetched the basin, wrapped a firm arm around his spasm-racked shoulders, mopped the sweat from his forehead.
In sickness and in health.
They were supposed to be preparing for a Florida vacation,
not holding on to each other in a cardiac care unit.
'Help me sit up,' he whispered hoarsely.
In the end, love comes down to this;
not Clark Gable's devilish first appraisal of Vivien Leigh,
not Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr rolling in the surf,
but, 'Help me sit up.'
A sharp-toothed rain spattered against the windowpane.
In the room, a procession of medical courtiers came and went,
trading pills for blood and tinkering,
ever tinkering, with the buttons and dials controlling the tubes
and wires to which their patient was trussed,
like some latter-day Gulliver.
One evening Frank was sitting asleep
in the chair next to the bed.
Mary paused in the waiting room to remove her street shoes
and put on her slippers.
She did not want to wake him
now that sleep was such a rationed luxury.
Soundlessly, she slipped into the chair next to his.
In the end, love is not the smoldering glance across the dance floor,
the clink of crystal, a leisurely picnic spread upon summer's clover. It is the squeeze of a hand.
I'm here. I'll be here, no matter how long the fight,
even when you want most to close your eyes
and be done with it all.
Water? You need water? Here. Drink.
Let me straighten your pillow.
'Help me into bed,' he said,
he who had once been warrior triumphant
in the business world.
He was tough, demanding,
but never as much on others as himself.
If you gave him your best, no one could hurt you.
If you gave him less, no one could hide you.
She had been with him and beside him
when the future was golden,
beside him when health sent his career into eclipse.
'I'm thirsty,' he said. 'Here,' she said,
'let me get you something.'
Along the road they once traveled so often to visit family,
the hearse wound its way past stubbled fields,
shuttered roadside markets.
The minister, clutching his Bible against his chest
as though it was sufficient cloak against the winds
whipping across the rural countryside,
passed final benediction: 'Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.'
He stooped to pick up his hat
as the funeral director placed the folded flag in Mary's lap.
So when all is said and done,
love is not rapture and fire.
It’s a hand steadier than one's own,
squeezing harder than a heartbeat.
Wine changes back to water.
Endearment is exhibited by what
once might have been considered insignificant kindnesses,
but which, in the end, become the tenderest of ministrations.
On the day after the funeral,
trying to busy herself with chores
that could easily wait, she plopped the laundry basket down
in front of her granddaughter.
The child tugged out the end of the sheet
her Frank had always held when they did the wash.
When the child brought the folded end
to meet the corners her grandmother held,
she kissed her playfully, just as he had once done.
'I'm thirsty, Grandma.' "
"Here, let me get you something,” Grandma said ...

Faith, hope and love abide, these three,
but the greatest of these…. is love

Looking For Still Waters

It's Thursday. The day when the Sew n' Sews come to work on quilts and various projects together. They're here at the church all morning. I can hear them talking and laughing from my office. I venture out and fill my cup with their coffee, and if they're taking a break, I'll sit down and join their fellowship. (I do not sew!)
They are quieter these days. I notice it before I even get out of my car, and see their cars already here. I can feel it in the air as I enter the front door. I notice it every time the front door opens and another sew-er arrives quietly. Sometimes I find myself holding my breath for a moment, listening, and then hearing nothing, I resume my work.
Karen's not here. That's the difference. It wasn't that many weeks ago, really, that I'd see her green van in the parking lot, with the yellow ribbon magnet on the back, honoring her son-in-law in Iraq. You always heard her coming. She made several trips into the church, unloading a sewing machine from home, a plastic bucket or two of "stuff" to work with. She always brought a lot of supplies, for herself and anyone else. She never arrived quietly. She usually shouted a joyful greeting on her way in, teasingly demanding some help in unloading her supplies. Once she was settled in at her sewing station, I could hear her voice from my office, talking and laughing. She blew in like a holy wind, bringing an energy, a life, a joy to the gathering that hit you like a warm bear hug. Everybody smiles around Karen. She brought the group together in a uniqe way.
The group is a holy fire-starter group, quietly burning in faith and care. They pray over blankets that they send overseas to troops or prayer blankets for someone local who could use some tender prayers to wrap up in. Their prayers are powerful, and to recieve one of their prayer blankets is a special joy. I've seen them wrapped around people in the hospital for weeks at a time, a special source of comfort, a burst of color amidst all that hospital-white and sterile surroundings. I've held the hands of the dying, who died with a prayer blanket keeping them warm for their journey to Jesus. I've seen the blankets in the casket with the body-- because even though they couldn't take it with them, they could it least let it keep them warm up to the edge of life.
Now Karen is at home in a hospital bed by the window, wrapped in her own prayer blanket. She has pancreatic cancer. It came like a storm out of nowhere just 4 months ago and has knocked her off her feet. When she first got the diagnosis, the first group to hear about it was her Sew 'n Sew buddies. They received the news at break over coffee, and they wept together. Like a prayer blanket, they wrapped themselves around their dear sister to help strengthen her for this difficult journey.
She spends her days now looking out over the lake behind her home, sleeping, receiving visitors, drinking her iced tea, and being cared for by hospice workers and her beloved best friend and husband Jim. I visit her often, not unselfishly. It seems to do something for her, but it does more for me. I still need doses of her spirit. Just because her body is fighting her and she's losing, her spirit is still very strong. The light is still there in her eyes, and from her bed she still cares for those around her. She's saying the things she needs to say, arranging things for those who will be left behind so they're taken care of. We talk about death and life. We talk about our pasts, tell stories, and talk about what she will miss. We even laugh. We're building a deeper friendship, against everything inside of me screaming not to let myself open myself up to so much pain.
Karen used to be a middle school art teacher, and she loved her kids. She's the kind that WOULD love middle school kids in all their unpredictable energy and intensity. Karen is one of the most joyful people I've ever met. She's not afraid to tell you her opinion on things, even if she knows it runs counter to your own or the status quo. She accepts what other people think and can disagree amicably, even lovingly. She seems perpetually amused. Her favorite outfit is a T-shirt, jeans and a flannel shirt, completed by one of her many and colorful pairs of Birkenstocks. When she came to Bible Study, she came with one of her plastic buckets containing her Bible and study book, and if she thought a passage in the Bible was "ridiculous" she'd say so and why. Or if a passage bored her or was painful to get through, she shared that too. She loves Jesus and wants to follow him, but she wants it to be clear that she can still follow him with her fancy camper. She used to email me blonde jokes to pass on to my daughter, who was at first offended by such jokes, but with Karen being a sister-blond, she started to accept Karen's advice not to take herself too seriously. She emailed me funny videos that she knew might offend someone else, or recommended movies to me, not the least bit hesitant to recommend an R rated movie. I lent her some of my favorite books and she devoured them graciously. She always brings me a stack of TIME magazines that she's done with.
Her house, which is truly her home, is spacious and beautifully decorated. Very... Karen. Each room is painted in a bright color, and no one would suspect such colors would go together, but at her house they do. Her house is immaculate all the time, but she credits her husband's anal tendencies for that.
Karen laughs at herself, and often at the absurdities of this life. That doesn't mean she doesn't cry. She cries when she needs to, and when she thinks something just plain stinks, she'll express that. She's given several meals to people in need, prayed over many blankets with her buddies, and faithfully attended church in her jeans and Birks when she's not visiting her grandchildren. Her face is one I always look for in the congregation-- I know where to find her-- because every preacher needs a face out there that s/he can count on to be friendly no matter what.
She wears one of many in her collection of half-glasses, all in various bright colors, all costing about a dollar at WalMart. She loves a good bargain. She's a gracious spirit. When a lot of older women in our congregation frowned and whispered over one young adults' dreadlocks, Karen LOVED them and complimented them. She gave my daughter a bamboo plant for her birthday, something that needed very little care but would give her the satisfaction of watcing it grow and caring for it as her own.
She taught me how to play dominoes. She taught me how to play in general, to take myself less seriously, and to enjoy. At fellowship time after church, she was always in the center of things, talking and laughing, gesturing wildly at times in telling a funny story. It is a basic small town law that to truly fit in, you have to be born and raised here, or at the very least related to someone who was. Or you're never quite IN. Karen defies that rule. In just six years, she has made her presence known, and has touched the lives of people of all ages. She blew in here like a holy tornado and the fire is still dancing on top of our heads.
She knows that her time is limited, and she talks about that honestly. We cry about that sometimes. One day when she was in the hospital, she greeted me and told me she was very tired, but before I left, would I please open that bag on the chair. In it was a beautiful blue and white patterned tea and tea cup, along with Decaf Constant Comment and Earl Grey teas. She said it was a gift for being such a good friend to her, and she knew I liked my cup of tea. She also knew that I drank tea when I needed comfort, and so wordlessly, she also provided comfort to me in the midst of my losing her.
I will miss her spirit among us. Already there is a stillness, a hush over the building, that I especially feel on Thursdays. Sometimes I can't bear to see the empty parking space or to listen for and never hear her joyous, dramatic entrance. I'm learning about life and death and grief and loving even when it hurts. I'm learning about living what is truly life and not wasting my time trying to be something I'm not, or saying things I don't really believe. I learned that from Karen. I'm learning to laugh more and say "I love you" when I feel it, and to worry less about being embarrassed. I'm learning to love and grieve in community, after wandering for so long. I'm learning to be home.
Thank you, Karen. Save me a place at the heavenly banquet, will you?