Where Our Power Lies
Friends,
I am sure most of you are familiar with the Thirteenth Chapter of Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians, which reads:
If I speak in the tongues of humans and of angels but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers and understand all mysteries and all knowledge and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions and if I hand over my body so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable; it keeps no record of wrongs; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part, but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. For now we see only a reflection, as in a mirror, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And now faith, hope, and love remain, these three, and the greatest of these is love.
This lesson is typically read at weddings, and for good reason. Paul’s writings on love are a perfect lesson for a couple about to commit to each other in marriage, and in my own marriage, I continue to find deeper and deeper layers of meaning in these words. Love is patient and kind. It is not envious, boastful, arrogant, rude, nor does it insist on its own way. It rejoices in truth. In all of these things lies a tremendous amount of power. My wife and I have been married for ten years, and because of the love that exists between us, she has a tremendous amount of power over me. I do not feel that I am callous to criticism I get from strangers, especially on the internet, but I am stubborn enough to ignore unsolicited criticism on principal, and I am generally over it in about a day. Those strangers have almost no power over me. They don’t know me, and generally you can see through their paper-thin façade and see their own insecurities shining through, rather than any real reflection of reality.
It is the exact opposite with Leandra. She knows me, my drives, my ticks, pet peeves, strengths and weaknesses, and though I will continue to be ambivalent toward her criticisms of my incorrect comma usage, I will take everything else to heart, because I suspect she knows me better than me. She loves me and proven this time and time again, and I hope I have proven the same to her. In Paul’s letter, he isn’t describing some abstract idea. He is giving real world examples of what gives love it’s power. When love is healthy and cared for as an extension of God’s love, then it has the potential to do incredible things. When true love exists, its power is in the fact that isn’t boastful, arrogant or rude. It doesn’t have to be those things to be heard. Love can be the knife that cuts through all of the BS that we carry, and actually allows us to hear truth.
Despite how it is commonly used, Paul’s writing on love just isn’t for married couples. When Churches are filled with love, they can be powerful instruments to justice, truth, faith and deeds. This love can, of course, be abused, but when the love is well cared for, it can be a powerfully good thing.
Like all tools, big statements and declarations from Churches can be used for good or evil. I don’t like using them, not because I think they are bad. I just think they are currently ineffective. You don’t have to look far to see that Churches are losing their sway. Not long ago, a statement from a Church governing body could actually mean something, while now I think people just leave if they don’t like the message. Even if people didn’t like it, they would engage with it, and let it trouble their soul, and they would go back to Church the next Sunday. This could be out of a sense of stubbornness, obligation, tradition or identity, but I’d like to think they would return because Church was the place where they felt loved. Some of this love is alive and well at St. Luke’s. In the few times I’ve really had people mad at me saying they were going to leave our Church almost all of them decided to stay, not because I convinced them of their errors, but because when it came down to it, this is where they felt loved.
Being loved is far more powerful than being correct. I mean this from a strictly pragmatic point of view. If you disagree with someone about something large or small, you have no chance of reaching them if you do not love them, even then it will take time or not happen at all. If you love someone, and never convince them of their error, then this is no failure, because chances are they love in you return, even if you are at odd on important issues.
I have seen a lot of chatter, and compelling memes on social media. There is a lot of anger, outrage, and fear within our congregation, and I am hearing from a lot of people. For right now, the only way I see forward is to continue to embrace the innate power that exists between us, which is genuine love. If we start with love, and use that as our foundation for everything else, then we might be able to accomplish something and grow as faithful people.
The most important person on Sunday morning will continue to be the person who is new, and/or is afraid this place isn’t for them. I do not care what your views on politics or sexuality may be, if a new person asks if we accept gay people at St. Luke’s, the answer must be yes, and then go and introduce them to one of our gay members. If someone comes in says they work for conservatives and asks if only liberals go here, then the answer must be no, and then regardless of your political affiliation, you should go and introduce them to one of our members who works for the Republican Party. Our overwhelming message should be, you are welcome, you are not alone, and you are loved. If we are called to be prophetic to one another in the future, then our foundation must be love, because as for prophecies, they will fade away, but love will endure.
My intent isn’t to avoid rocking the boat. The boat will be rocked if it needs to be rocked. My intent is that we don’t confuse rocking the boat with throwing the crew overboard. We are one of the few places that people gather from all sides of the political landscape, and if we can gather in love and strive to be both candid and compassionate, then we might, with the grace of God, continue to be greater than the sum of our parts.
Blessings,
Nick