Sermon - The Infusion of Love (April 28, 2013) & Benediction

Psalm 148, Revelation 21:1-6; John 13:31-35

The Infusion of Love

 

Every morning around 6:30 AM, my 2 year old son Jah Bi wakes up, crawls into my bed and lays his head on my pillow, seeking comfort. He’s my wake-up call. It’s time to get out of bed. As I told you a few weeks ago, on an average morning it takes more than 20 minutes for me to finally crawl out of bed. Jah Bi helps me. First I head for the washroom, then to the dressing room to find a pair of socks to warm my feet. There I see magic – clean socks are folded up and put neatly in my cubbyhole. Laundry is Min Goo’s job. We never made a formal division of chores - it just happened naturally. He does the laundry at night, sorts it, folds everything up and puts each family member’s clothes in the right place. One morning, while choosing a pair of socks, I said to him, “Thank you for making me think socks are almost always there for me automatically.”

In our normal days, love is what we almost take for granted; we tend to take in love as if it is given automatically, naturally: the child’s love for us, the partner’s love for us, and the love we have for them. They are intact; they haven’t been disrupted. They are daily blessings which we don’t usually take seriously; we don’t think about where this love comes from. We don’t take the time to ponder upon what is the source of love we experience daily. What is it really? Where does it come from? How is it made? Is it just emotional? Is it just a byproduct of oxytocin, the hormone which is often referred to as the “love hormone”? Love is biological and intellectual - it draws us closer to one another in our family and in our community. It connects us with one another. Our body is created, fitting to the mechanism of love. But loving is not just given, biologically or automatically. 
  

Love is what we strive for in our lives. We carefully build it up. We do our best to make sure it is not disrupted, diminished or snatched away from us by any force. For me, my family is my sanctuary; their love gives me confidence to love more, love better. There are always more things to learn, in love and with love; I learn how I can restrain myself from expressing anger, blaming, shouting, yelling, and controlling. I learn how negative emotions like anger can be triggered in under one second, how necessary it is sometimes to mindfully practice loving.

For many of us, family is where we have learned how love nurtures us and restores us. Or for some of us, family has functioned in the opposite way. Family dysfunction and brokenness may have left deep wounds. I often hear many of us call this congregation, “The church family”. I believe that it is because we know what “family” means; love and faith with their complicated details, ups and downs, loss and reconciliation. A family has its own rhythm, dynamic and spirit which is passed on through decades and generations- just like this congregation.

The substance which sustains each family is love; the substance which keeps and enlivens our church family is love, and that love comes from God. Whether we speak of biology or psychology, the ultimate source of love is God. When we gather here, in this sanctuary, in the name of God, it means that we gather here in the name of love. The love of God for us, our love for God, our love for each other – these three aspects of love are intertwined in the life of  our church.

A lot of scientific research have been undertaken in order to dissect the underpinnings of love in technical, biological terms. It’s a worthwhile pursuit, as it reminds us that there is no such thing as a sheer, surreal magic unbound by nature’s rule. Love is a release of the hormone oxytocin. Love is a chemical reaction. Love is material. Love is biological. But we know love is more than that. It is intimacy in relationships. It is compassion for the pain of others. It is the complex mystery of God; how God is present with us and leads us. We feel integrity within love. We dream, in love.

Recent weeks have shocked us with terrible news here and in the world: North Korea’s renewed military aggression, bombings in Boston and Iraq on the same day, a thwarted Via Rail terrorist attack, unprovoked killings, so much violence and death around the world. Hatred seems to lurk in every dark corner and fear drives our society. The Globe and Mail issued an editorial saying, “Osama bin Laden is dead, and nearly 12 years have passed since the attack of Sept. 11, 2001. [But] It is not time for the West to drop its guard. What happened in Boston can happen here.” (I added more words in pulpit.)

The season of Easter brought the bloom of flowers all around our town. Cherry trees. Magnolias. White fawn lilies (which are my favourite) spread liltingly on the hillsides. As the Psalmist today sings, the whole creation seem to sing “Glory be to God... Give praise to God.” Easter pronounces that life triumphs over death, love overcomes evil. The season of Easter, the spring of life, calls us with a joyful melody of praise. The gladness of Christ’s resurrection urges us to stretch our soul.The Book of Revelation says “The home of God is among mortals. God will dwell with them; they will be God’s people, and God himself will be with them; He will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more…”

But, in the past weeks we have found ourselves stuck, numbed, shocked, and groaning. We see our inadequacies with uncomfortable clarity: the inability to make things right, the inability to bring peace, the inability to resurrect love from brokenness.  

In today’s Gospel, Jesus says, “Children, I am with you for only a short time longer. You are going to look high and low for me. But I am telling you: where I go, you are not able to come. Let me give you a new command; Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another.”

We live in a time when love is not just given; we need to strive, to will, to struggle to find it, restore it, and keep it alive. The reason why we must make such an effort is that this is how God is engaged with the world and with us, by striving, willing, and struggling to restore us and save us from the destructive powers of the world.

Love is a gift, many of us say, but it is not given automatically. The strength of a love regained after experiencing the trauma of loss or brokenness is huge, but that strength comes after our darkest moments, a phoenix rising from the ashes of our loss.

Love is emotion, but it’s also deeper than that – it is the substance in all things. It is existential. Love is the power of resurrection life. Experiencing it restores us. It lets us become significantly different. Love gives the capacity to rebuild life, rebuild the world. It lets us re-write our stories, about what we can and cannot do. It lets us re-draw our limits.

This is my reflection on love - I know you have more to share. I define love as an infusion. Love is like a tea bag. When we contemplate it, feel it, and experience it, it infuses us with its essence. This operation of infusion is natural. It’s given. It seems almost automatic. But it needs a person who steeps in it. In the Gospel, Jesus says, “As I have loved you.” Not someone else, but you. The enactment of love begins with you. The aroma, the flavour of love is your character. May the love of God, the substance within us, sustain us and fill us with the joy of Easter.

A beautiful letter from a minister couple

http://peacemama3.blogspot.ca/2013/05/a-beautiful-letter-from-minister-couple_5.html

Benediction

As you take one more step along the world this week, 

open your mind to the endless possibilities God creates!

God brings us closer to God!

Open your eyes to God’s presence in all things!
God leads us to respond in joy! 

The God of all the ages, the God of all places, the God of all peoples, the God of all you have been, are, and will be, bless you and this precious expression of God’s fullness, Chemainus United Church.

Go in Easter peace and joy. 

Prayers of the People

 

Holy and Gracious God,

We give you thanks for family, friends, life, love –

For all the blessings you have bestowed upon us.

For the rain in the early spring morning, 

For the wet soil of our garden,

For the flowerpots on our apartment’s balcony,

For the blooming cherry trees on the street and the white fawn lilies on the hill,

For the successful plant sale yesterday we had at our church garden…

Bless all the hands of the people who carried the pots, sorted them out, priced them and sold them.   Bless our Sunday School children who helped the grownups, and all those who came.

We feel your love which surrounds us. We learn how to respond with joy to surprises in life, to the new possibilities in life. We learn how to give thanks for daily blessings. Your grace humbles us, and moves us on. 

When we look after a child, feeding him and playing with him, 

When we take a stroll with an elderly person on a sunny afternoon

 - a very slow walk,

We feel and learn by heart how you care for us,

how you take a walk with us every day – keeping pace with us. 

God of our Mothers and Fathers,

Your desire for us leads the way. 

May we have the ears to hear the cries of this world,

responding with your hope.

Compassionate One,

Fill us with your love

That we may see deeply all the needs around us –

We pray for those who are shut-in, live in isolation, loneliness. Equip us to be a bearer of loving touch for them, by visiting them, holding their hands, or taking a walk with them.

We pray for those who mourn the death of loved ones, for those who grieve over losses of any kind, for those who strive and will for life, for rebuilding and restoring it from brokenness. Remember and hold them within your empowering and embracing presence.

We pray for those whose life is touched by cancer and their families. We pray especially for Joy Philips, Fran’s family, ______. Help us to care with your heart.

May your love, your grace, your compassion, your mercy carry us away this day,

And lead us with love to be your hands and heart in the world.

Amen.