Fifth Sunday of Easter – Year C – Bill Harkins
The Collect of the DayAlmighty God, whom truly to know is everlasting life: Grant us so perfectly to know your Son Jesus Christ to be the way, the truth, and the life, that we may steadfastly follow his steps in the way that leads to eternal life; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
The Gospel: John 13:31-35
At the last supper, when Judas had gone out, Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now, I say to you, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come.’ I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
In the Name of the God of Creation who loves us all, Amen. Good morning! And welcome to Holy Family on this 5th Sunday of Easter. If you are visiting us this morning, welcome, and please let us get to know you!
Several years ago, Vicky and I attended a clinical conference in San Francisco, and visited Grace Episcopal Cathedral for the early morning service. We were entranced by this remarkable place of worship high atop a hill overlooking the city. Inside, we explored its various chapels, a labyrinth, lovely murals depicting the history of the city, and stunningly beautiful windows. One is invited to enter this holy space, and to allow one’s spiritual imagination to come alive. The last available window space has recently been filled with an incredible stained-glass piece, depicting a spiral nebula—a lovely galaxy much like our own milky way, spinning deep in outer space. I was reminded again of the words of Eucharistic Prayer C, “the vast expanse of interstellar space, galaxies, suns, the planets in their courses, and this fragile earth, our island home.” Somehow the depth and expansiveness of the cathedral seemed to contain a hint of all that, and more, a kind of mysterious engagement with the holy, as if the Spirit blew gently, constantly, lovingly through the cool depths of the very soul of the building holding us in its embrace.
After the celebration of the Eucharist, we emerged into the brilliant northern California sunlight on a cool April morning. On a plaza just below the doors of the Cathedral is an outdoor labyrinth, encircled by Japanese Maples only now in full leaf, and they luminous in the morning light. On the perimeter of the labyrinth nine or ten Cantonese women engaged in their morning ritual of Tai Chi, the lovely, synchronous form of worship, exercise, and meditation. We stood for a long while at the top of the steps, entranced by this rich, resonant synchronicity of worship and culture: our own celebration of the Eucharist, this labyrinth of ancient Celtic origins, just like our own, and the deeply moving ritual of Tai Chi, all brought together by the grace-filled welcoming embrace of one of our Cathedrals. It was a moment of, well, grace, in every sense of the word.
My primary feeling was that of gratitude, a deep, abiding appreciation for the moment of Kairos we experienced. A moment when Spirit seemed so present, so close, so available. And that Spirit-time, that Kairos, points us to something that lies in the very heart and soul of who we are and who we aspire to be as a parish. It’s the very force that emanates from God and gives life to us all. This morning—in this light-filled space—we hear the remarkably poignant words spoken by Jesus; “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
Put simply, Jesus’ incarnation of the ancient ideal was to become the pattern of how the disciples, and that includes us, were to be known to one another, the pattern, that is, of how we ought live our lives. St. Augustine once observed that Jesus loved each person he ever met as if there were no other in the entire world to love. He radically individualized and made incarnate the affection he acted out toward others. I was reminded on the steps of Grace Cathedral that morning that we are all made in the image of that extraordinary love—all of us—and this Holy space was an outward and visible sign, if you will, of the love which led Jesus to say that he would take us into himself. And yes, sometimes we all fall short of this ideal, core virtue of love and compassion, and one of the reasons for returning here, and to all of the sacred places in our lives, is to be reminded of this, and restored, and nourished to go back out into the world as the Body of Christ.
That is the place he prepares for us. Jesus’ love for us was not just a radically incarnate, individual love. It was also universal love, and it includes this planet earth, our island home, and everything in it, including Grace Cathedral, and all of our moments and glimpses of grace, and this sacred space, and each of us, who are called to be earthen vessels of that love. The eyes with which he looked upon the world were never filled with disdain or contempt. We must never forget that the opposite of love is not anger, but rather indifference. We all get angry, and sometimes that anger is instructive because it can remind us of what is most dearly, deeply important to us. Jesus loved each of us as if we were the only ones in the world, and he loved all as he loved each. And this speaks to the wisdom of C.S. Lewis, who made a distinction between what he called “need love” and “gift love.” Need love, says Lewis, is always born of emptiness, a kind of possessive acquisitiveness that is the relational, spiritual equivalent of a vacuum, like a black hole in outer space, sucking everything into its dark center. Lewis acknowledges that many times when we humans say, “I love you,” what we really mean is “I need you, I want you…you have value to me that I desire to make my own, regardless of the consequences to you.” Lewis contends that another form of love is radically, ontologically different. It is what he calls “gift love.” Rather than being born of emptiness, or impoverishment, and the needs to which they point, this form of loving is one of fullness, and grace, and gratitude. Its goal is to enrich and enhance the beloved rather than extract value. Gift love moves out to bless and increase—to enliven, nurture, and sustain the other. It is more like an ever- flowing spring than a needful vacuum. Lewis concludes by saying that the uniqueness of the biblical vision of reality is that God’s love is “gift love,” not “need love.” He reminds us that, “we humans are made in the image of such everlasting and unconditional love,” we are created Imago Dei—in the image of God. Not only are we loved by God in this way, we can choose to live our lives this way. We are most likely to fall into “need love” when we are feeling scared, or vulnerable in some way—when faced with new situations or people who are different in one way or another. But even then, amid our uncertainty, we can choose, with God’s grace, to grow into the wonder of “gift love.” CS Lewis reminds us that “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
I am so very grateful for this past year among you, and although my time is coming to a close—and it now seems I will be here a bit longer than we thought—the moments of grace we have experienced together will remain with me and have become a part of who I am, and who I am still becoming. I am so very proud of you all. Over the past year we have together done so much, loved so much, given so much. I am especially grateful for the example of my colleagues Katharine and Byron, whose steadfast faithfulness has been the essence of Gift Love. Katharine went into and came out of retirement during our time of need and gives so much of herself, blessing, nurturing, sustaining with her grace-filled pastoral heart, often behind the scenes and without recognition. Katharine, thank you so much for your compassionate love for us all and for so many at the prison, and elsewhere. Byron has been a faithful and steadfast colleague, showing up week in and week out, with good humor, wise counsel, and insightful pastoral care. Thanks to Byron, as he and Ann journey to Washington this weekend. And our colleague Ted Hackett, despite ongoing health challenges, has gracefully shown up as he has been able, giving so much to this parish, and beyond, over the years. And I want to thank all of you. I have had the graceful privilege of watching this parish flourish, thanks to so many who have stepped up and found gifts and graces you may not have imagined you had. Our newly formed Parish Life committee, yes, lay led, clergy supported, has transformed this congregation in many ways. Thank you! Along with each of the guilds and committees, from pastoral care to our vestry and nominating committee; from hospitality to our vergers and EM’s, from our Digital Ministry without which we would not be Holy Family to the wider world to our Grounds Committee, flower and altar guilds, DOK, and all those who assist the worship committee in its work, thank you! And a deep bow of gratitude to our able, talented, and steadfast parish administrator Christie who gracefully puts up with all our comings and goings, and John and our amazing choir, who have also grown and proven resilient, and open to new ideas! All these examples of selfless gift love have placed us in a good position to face the future in a time when the church—ours and all mainline Protestantism—is undergoing rapid change, and to welcome our new rector whom we are holding in our prayers. Let’s remember another moment of Gift Love, on a summer day in 1998 when more than 300 PBS stations across the nation aired a very special of Mr. Rogers’ neighborhood that featured KoKo, the sign-language using gorilla. Mr. Rogers’ visit to KoKo’s home at The Gorilla Foundation helped launch a week of programming entitled “You and I Together” which addressed the confusion and fears of young children when confronted with new situations or people who are different. The weeklong theme of “inclusion” featured KoKo and helpful talks about feeling included, no matter the nature of one’s disability, infirmity, skin color, race, gender, religion, or sexual orientation. Turned out that “Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood” was one of KoKo’s very favorite TV shows. And when this gentle Presbyterian pastor, beloved by so many, entered KoKo’s room, she immediately embraced him in a gentle gorilla hug, and in sign language said, “Love you, neighbor, KoKo love.” KoKo then bent down to help Mr. Rogers remove his shoes, as she had seen him do every day, for so many years, on his show. She then helped him remove his sweater. So, you see, gift love is available to us all and can come from unexpected sources. And with the grace of God, we can choose to embrace that love, just as KoKo embraced Mr. Rogers. Let’s be bearers of light, of grace, and of hope, shall we, no matter what the future may bring! As Leonard Cohen sang,
“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”
And let the people of God say, Amen