Truthful Testimony in a World of Fake News

A Sermon for Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church

11 August 2024

1 John 5.1-6 

Sometimes it can feel as though Fake News has taken over the world.
            Honestly? Sometimes I’m not sure who or what to believe any more.
 
If my social media is anything to go by,
            the world is full of people who think in ways that are very similar to me,
            as we merrily share our favoured Guardian articles,
                        which have been carefully written to simultaneously feed and assuage
                        our vague collective sense of liberal middle class guilt.
 
But common sense tells me that this can’t be the whole story of my country,
            so sometimes I make an effort to step outside
                        of my carefully constructed echo chamber,
            and I read an article or blog from a paper or author that I don’t agree with,
                        and of course I am astonished at what I find,
                        and I wonder how anyone could believe such lies;
            just as I’m sure that those who regularly read the material I struggle with
                        cannot believe that I have myself been so easily deceived.
 
Where, or what, the truth is, can be very hard to fathom.
 
Who do you believe?
            Does who you believe depend on where you live?
            Or who else you have been listening to?
 
It’s no wonder that lesson number one
            in the ‘how to set up a dictatorship’ handbook
            is that you first take control of the media.
In the end, it doesn’t usually matter what’s actually true,
            what’s important is that people believe what you tell them.
 
The various vested interests that finance and control
            the various wings of the Western free press also know this very well,
            and use it to great effect.
It is widely acknowledged that more than one British Prime Minister
            has been elected on the strength
            of the editorial direction of The Sun newspaper.
And it certainly seems to be the case
            that if you can control what someone reads and hears,
            there is a good chance that you can control the person.
 
There is no doubt that we live in strange times politically,
            with established orthodoxies facing threat from all sides,
            and maverick or extremist voices
                        garnering more attention and power than they deserve.
 
And all too often, the rich and the powerful
            end up with their voices being heard
            above those that try to represent the poor and the weak.
 
This is the context in which I want us to hear our reading this morning
            from the first letter of John,
a passage which takes us deep into the question of where true power lies,
            where truth itself lies,
            and where lies lie.
 
The logic of the passage is not entirely straightforward,
            and various commentators tie themselves up in knots
                        working out how it all fits together,
but I think it’s worth trying to follow John’s logic here,
            because he is making a profound point about the way the world works.
 
His starting point is Jesus,
            which is generally, I think, a good place to start.
 
He says that
            ‘Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God’.
 
So, the answer he’s offering to the implied question
            of, ‘who are the children of God?’,
is that God’s children are those who believe that Jesus is the Christ.
 
This statement is highly significant,
            because it was very much contrary to the views held by
            the various Greek and Roman religions of the first century,
who believed that the children of the gods
            were either gods themselves,
            or possibly were the half-god-half-human hybrids
                        who became great heroes like Odysseus and Ulysses.
 
Interestingly, the Jewish scriptures have an echo of this idea
            of there having been half-human-half-divine heroes of old,
            and we can read about this in the strange story of the Nephilim
                        in Genesis chapter 6 (v.2-4);
 
but the dominant Jewish perspective by the first century
            was that a child of God was someone whom God had adopted
                        someone God showed special favour to,
            such as the great King David, or one of his descendants,
            or possibly, the long awaited ultimate ‘son of David’
                        who would be their messiah (cf 2 Sam 7.14).
 
It’s also worth noting that sometimes
            the idea of being ‘children of God’
was a concept that was applied
            to the whole Jewish people (Exod 4.22; Hos 11.1).
 
And the Christian perspective, being explored here by the author of 1 John,
            is similarly multi-layered.
 
The very earliest Christians drew on their Jewish heritage
            for metaphors to understand what they had experienced
                        through their encounter with Jesus,
            and they kind-of fused the idea
                        of a son of God being a human/divine being,
            with the idea of him being a messiah born of the house of David;
and so in the gospels we get stories such as the virgin birth
            being used to convey their understanding that Jesus is no ordinary human,
                        but rather that he is the son of God,
                        as well as being the son of Man, and also the son of David.
 
This theological journey is in the background to what we meet in 1 John,
            who takes the logic a stage further.
 
It’s not just Jesus who is the son of God,
            rather, anyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ, that he is the Messiah,
            is themselves now a child of God.
 
Just as sometimes in the Jewish scriptures
            the whole nation of Israel could become the children of God,
            so the same is true for those who believe that Jesus is the Christ.
 
The logic John then uses to prove this is a kind of proverb,
            where he asserts that ‘everyone who loves the parent loves the child’.
 
This means that if you love God, you will love Jesus;
            and it builds on his previous assertion
            that if you believe in Jesus, you are yourself a child of God.
 
The point he is making is that if you are a child of God, and if you love God,
            then you will also love all God’s other children.
 
And here we get to the nub of his argument.
            If we are all children of God, then we must love one another.
And if we do not love one another,
            then maybe we don’t really love God?
 
He goes on,
            ‘by this we know that we love the children of God,
            when we love God and obey his commandments’.
 
Our status as God’s children
            begins with our affirmation that Jesus is the Christ,
but we know it to be true
            by keeping his commandments.
 
As John says,
            ‘For the love of God is this, that we obey his commandments’.
 
We will know that we are God’s children who love our heavenly father
            when we keep his commandments,
and God’s love is expressed for us as his children,
            by giving us commandments to keep.
 
One of the things I hear time and again as a pastor,
            is that so many of us doubt, deep down, that we are loved by God.
 
Many of you will remember ruth, my former colleague here at Bloomsbury,
            who used to joke that all of her sermons boiled down to one key assertion,
that ‘God loves you, get over it!’
 
But… what if you can’t? What if I can’t?
            What if, in my heart of hearts, I feel that I am unlovable, even by God?
            What if that is true for you? For us?
 
We have a crisis of self-hatred in our country,
            with people carrying wounds that are so deep
            that often they can barely be acknowledged,
                        let alone brought to healing.
 
Did you know that the UK has the highest rate of self harm among adults
                        of any country in Europe,[1]
            and I know from my own experience,
                        that it can be a demon which it is hard to exorcise.
 
If the world could learn the love of God,
            so many things could be so very different.
 
The London homelessness crisis continues to deepen,
            and I don’t know if you’ve walked up Tottenham Court Road recently
                        going up past Goodge Street Station,
            but there is now a permanent tent city
                        and large numbers of people making their homes on the streets.
 
The ecumenical group of West End Churches, which we’re a part of
            wrote a letter to our local MPs a couple of months ago
to highlight this issue and to call for the proposed Criminal Justice Bill to be amended,
            as it would have effectively criminalised homelessness.[2]
Thankfully the bill in its proposed form was deferred by the General Election,[3]
            but the scapegoating and victimisation of the vulnerable
            remains a constant threat in our city.
 
So I’ll say it again:
            If the world could learn the love of God,
            so many things could be so very different.
 
But how do we know that God loves us?
            How can the world learn that God is love?
 
This knowledge will not come, it seems,
                        by contemplation, or meditation.
            Rather, says John, we learn that God loves us
                        when we keep his commandments.
            This is an active, not a passive process.
 
And what we are talking about here
            is most emphatically NOT the Ten Commandments of the Jewish law.
 
I’ve argued before, and will doubtless do so again,
            that the Ten Commandments are not binding on Christians.
 
The whole point of the revelation that Jesus brought
            was that the commands of the Jewish law
            could not of themselves make a person righteous before God.
 
They reveal God’s wrath
            at the insidious persistence of the power of sin,
but offer a solution which is a burden too great for any human to bear:
            the ten commandments do not make a person perfect,
            and neither do they make a person right with God.
 
The Jews of the first century knew this well,
            which is why they had systems of confession and sacrifice
            built around the rituals of the temple in Jerusalem.
 
But John, the author of our letter, himself a Jewish follower of Jesus,
            offers a different perspective,
he provocatively suggests that the commands of God that reveal his love
            are in fact ‘not burdensome’.
 
His point is that we discover our status as God’s children,
            as those dearly loved by God,
precisely when we keep the commands of God
            that have come into the world
                        not on tablets of stone,
            but through the revelation of God’s son Jesus the Christ.
 
In other words, we discover God’s love for us
            when we listen to and obey the words of his son Jesus.
 
So we enter into God’s love when, in obedience to the revealed word in Christ,
            we practice love for one another.
 
And the command that reveals God’s love
            is none other than the love command itself.
 
We find it in John’s gospel (13:34-35) where Jesus says to his disciples:
“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.”
 
But it is so easy for us to hate one another,
            just as it is so easy for us to hate ourselves.
 
Of course, we don’t call it hatred.
            We are far too reserved for that kind of language.
 
But we might admit, sometimes, to finding someone ‘a little bit difficult’.
            Which is, of course, code for something far worse.
 
And we might subtly but effectively side-line
            those whom we struggle to love,
quietly distancing ourselves from our sisters and brothers in Christ.
 
And we might find ways of exhibiting
            our passive aggression towards others,
all the while maintaining our own perspective
            of self-righteous restraint.
 
But, but… says John…
            if we can learn to love the children of God,
            if we can learn to obey the command of God spoken in Christ
                        that we should love one another as he has loved us,
            then this is a victory of faith which can conquer the world.
 
Here’s the fascinating part of John’s logical flow in our passage for this morning.
 
Having started with Jesus,
            and the love God shows for all God’s children who believe in Jesus;
and having moved us from there into the command
            that those of us who are God’s children must love one another;
we suddenly find ourselves in a position
            where we can conquer the world!
 
It turns out that we are not commanded to love each other
            for the sake of the church,
we are commanded to do it for the sake of the world.
 
As John says,
            ‘whatever is born of God conquers the world.
                        And this is the victory that conquers the world: our faith.
            Who is it that conquers the world,
                        but the one who believes that Jesus is the son of God?’ (vv.4-5)
 
He takes us full circle back to our believing in Jesus,
            which was what triggered our status as God’s children in the first place.
 
If we believe, then we are children.
            If we are children, then we are loved.
            If we are loved, then we must love.
            If we love, we will conquer the world.
 
That’s John’s argument, in a nutshell.
 
The whole world is saved,
            by the love that God’s children show for one another.
Because it is through our love for one another,
            that God’s love for the world is made known.
 
So if, like me, you find yourself sometimes despairing at the state of the world,
            if, like me, you are sometimes afraid to turn on the news
                        for fear of what you will see.
Then here is good news for a change.
 
The love of God conquers the world,
            and does so through the love of God’s children,
            who live in obedience to the loving command of God’s son.
 
Which is why what we do here on a Sunday matters.
 
It would be so easy to not go to church,
            to look for our spiritual sustenance somewhere else,
            online, or in a book,
                        on the Christian TV channel,
                        or via our Christian-subset social media bespoke echo chamber
                                    where everyone thinks like we do.
 
But that is to avoid the command to love one another,
            it is to avoid the necessity of living in the tension of intentional community,
            of forging and sustaining relationships even when they are difficult.
 
The church, I firmly believe, is wherever the sisters and brothers of Jesus
                        gather to worship him as the Christ,
            and 1 John tells us that when we do this,
                        we are learning to live in the love of God,
            and that the love that God has for the world is being made real in our midst.
 
I do not think that it is overstating it to suggest
            that because we are the body of Christ,
            and because Christ’s body is the hope of the world,
            therefore it is through us that God’s love is revealed to all.
 
And so we come to the cross,
            the ultimate moment of God’s love for us.
The body of Christ broken for the salvation of the world.
 
It is not enough to simply be baptised by water into a loving community.
            Rather, we are baptised into the body of Christ,
            which is crucified before it is ever resurrected.
 
The pain and the suffering that we bear together
            are marks of the love that binds us to one another,
            and a sacrament of the love of God for the world.
 
We bear in our midst the marks of the crucifixion
            that Christ bears eternally.
 
We have to learn to carry our own cross, to die to self,
            before we can truly know what it is to enter the new life of selfless love
            that God places before us in his son Jesus.
 
This is how the world will be conquered,
            when the church learns to live in love,
as all God’s children follow
            the command and example of his only begotten son.
 
When we create a community of love,
            we create something that is deeply, fundamentally true,
            in the way that nothing else is.
 
Because as we do so, we discover the truth that God is love,
            and that God loves the world absolutely.
 
And this is the truth we offer to the world,
            because it arises from our own lived practical experience
            of living it into being.
 
And here we come full circle, back to a world of fake news,
            where nothing is to be trusted and no-one is to be believed.
 
But we come to that world with a message to proclaim
            and a testimony to offer,
through the spirit of the one who has shown us the truth.
 
As John puts it,
            ‘the Spirit is the one that testifies,
            for the Spirit is the truth.’ (v.6)
 
We are the children of God,
            and we offer the testimony of truth that God is love.
 
And we do this because we are called by the Spirit of Christ
                        into a community of love,
                        that bears witness to a new way of being human
            where love triumphs over hatred,
                        and life triumphs over death,
            and where the love of God is made known through us
                        to all people.

---

[1] https://www.mentalhealth.org.uk/a-to-z/s/self-harm
[2] https://www.indcatholicnews.com/news/49532
[3] https://www.crisis.org.uk/get-involved/campaign/the-criminal-justice-bill-and-homelessness/

Love in Action: From Words to Works

A Sermon for Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church

21st July 2024

 

1 John 3.16-24

The theologian Sallie McFague knows a thing or two
            about the power of words,
and she says that ‘when people call for action,
            they need to think about words.’
 
Because, she says ‘words are actions for human beings.’
 
Words, she claims, have the power to create worlds,
            and just as in the book of Genesis God is depicted
                        speaking the world into being in the great act of creation;
            so we too speak new worlds into being,
                        creating new possibilities with every utterance.
 
We must reject the lie that “Sticks and stones can break my bones,
            but words will never hurt me”,
because words have great power,
            creating the worlds within which we live and believe,
            and flourish and perish.
 
There's a power in words.
            and those of us who preach or teach understand this deeply.
We stand before you each week,
            wielding the mighty sword of scripture,
hoping to pierce hearts and illuminate minds.
 
But words, for all their potency,
            can also sometimes feel a little...hollow.
 
We can get caught up in the beauty of a passage,
            the elegance of a turn of phrase,
            or the academic enquiry into context and origin,
and we can forget that the ultimate goal of words
            isn't a mental exercise,
            it a transformation of the world.
 
The Bible isn't meant to simply be admired, or studied;
            it's meant to be lived.
 
Because the Bible becomes alive for us
            as the Spirit of life brings the words of life, to life in our lives.
 
The author of 1 John understood this,
            and in today's passage, he confronts a truth that can be uncomfortable:
                        and the truth is this: talk is cheap.
 
We can shower people with compliments,
            we can express our love in grand pronouncements,
but if those words aren't backed by action,
            they ring hollow.
 
If our words don’t create a new world,
            in which love is made known and experienced in people’s lives,
            they are just a clanging cymbal or a banging drum (cf 1 Cor. 13)
 
Imagine that today is turning out to be one of the worst days of your life.
            Maybe you've lost your job,
            or heard that a loved one is struggling with illness.
 
You reach out to a friend, you pour out your heart,
            and they offer a sympathetic ear and kind words.
 
But then...nothing.
            No offer of help, no concrete action to ease your burden.
 
The initial comfort quickly evaporates,
            replaced by a deeper sense of isolation.
 
This, the author of 1 John suggests,
            is the danger of love that exists only in words.
 
Instead, he calls for a different kind of love
            – a love made known "in truth and action", (1 John 3:18).
 
This kind of love isn't about empty platitudes;
            it's about rolling up your sleeves and getting involved.
 
It's about looking around your own Christian community
            – at your brothers and sisters in faith –
            and seeing who might be hurting.
 
Maybe it's a single parent struggling to make ends meet.
            Perhaps it's a neighbour facing a health crisis.
True love compels us to see these needs, to offer a helping hand,
            and to share the burdens we carry together.
 
This call to action might sound daunting.
            After all, isn't love a feeling?
            Can we really force ourselves to care?
 
The answer, thankfully, is no.
            The love the author speaks of isn't a fleeting emotion;
            it's a commitment, a way of life rooted in faith.
 
This is love spoken into being,
            taking shape and form in deed and action.
 
As we saw in our sermon last week
            when we choose to follow Christ, we choose to embody his love,
            and Christlike love culminated in the ultimate sacrifice
                        – as Jesus laid down his life for his friends (John 10:17).
 
This love of God that is made known to us in Christ
            is a love that demands selflessness,
            a willingness to put the needs of others before our own.
 
This doesn't mean we need to become martyrs.
            But it does mean being intentionally attentive
            to the needs of those around us.
 
It means asking ourselves some tough questions:
            Do we truly see the struggles of our brothers and sisters in Christ?
            Are we willing to offer practical help,
                        even if it means sacrificing our own comfort or convenience?
 
This morning, as we spend some time with this passage from 1 John,
            we’ll find ourselves facing both the dangers of hate
            and the life-giving power of love,
and how our words can shape action both good and bad.
 
We'll see how our actions
            can either confirm or contradict our faith.
 
And ultimately, we'll seek to answer the question
            of how can we move from words of good intent
            to true love in action,
building a Christian community
            where love is not just spoken, but lived?
 
This journey begins with a critical first step
            – recognizing the limitations of words
            and embracing the transformative power of love in action.
 
Beyond Words: The Challenge of Love and the Danger of Hate (1 John 3:10-15, 17)
 
But the next step on the journey
            involves both a challenge and a warning:
there is a call here to cultivate genuine love within our Christian community
            but also a caution against the destructive power of hate,
and both of these are rooted in the language we use,
            the words that we choose.
 
So John begins by reminding his readers
            of the privilege and responsibility
            that comes with being children of God.
 
He emphasizes the importance of love within the Christian family,
            stating, ‘Whoever does not love does not know God,
            for God is love’. (1 John 4:8).
 
This divine love isn't a passive feeling;
            rather it's an active commitment that binds believers together
            as brothers and sisters in Christ (1 John 3:14).
 
However, John isn't naive.
            He recognizes that even within the Christian community,
            darkness can lurk.
 
And so he warns against the insidious presence of hate,
            contrasting it with the life-giving power of love.
 
He says, "All who hate a brother or sister are murderers,
            and you know that murderers
            do not have eternal life abiding in them" (1 John 3:15).
 
John's language might seem harsh here,
            but it underscores the gravity of hateful words and behaviours.
This is not a harmless emotion,
            but a destructive force that can lead to devastating consequences.
 
Perhaps you've experienced this first-hand
            – a conflict with a fellow believer,
                        a simmering resentment that festers and grows.
 
This kind of hate, John warns,
            cuts us off from the very wellspring of life – from God's love.
 
But John also offers a glimpse
            into the consequences of failing to show love.
 
He presents a scenario where someone possesses material resources
            but refuses to help a brother or sister in need (1 John 3:17).
 
Here, John isn't advocating for blind handouts;
            he's highlighting the importance of compassion
            and practical assistance within the Christian family.
 
When we see a fellow believer struggling and turn a blind eye,
            it raises a troubling question:
"does the love of God reside in such a person?" John asks… (1 John 3:17).
 
This passage compels us to examine our own hearts.
            Are we truly seeing the needs of those around us,
                        especially those within our church community?
 
            Do we offer practical help and support,
                        or do we remain comfortable while others struggle?
 
The community here at Bloomsbury is diverse,
            and none of us should ever assume that everyone else is like us.
 
It's too easy to fall into the trap of convenience,
            convincing ourselves that someone else will step in,
            or that the need isn't urgent enough.
 
But John challenges these justifications,
            reminding us that love isn't a spectator sport;
            it demands active participation of the whole community.
 
Now, some might argue
            that we simply don't have the resources to help everyone.
And of course that's true.
            But resources come in many forms.
 
It's not just about money;
            it's also about offering a listening ear,
                        a helping hand,
            or simply giving the gift of spending time with someone.
 
The key is to be open to the needs around us
            and to respond with a willingness to help, even in small ways.
Our words of love need to take shape
            in actions of loving compassion.
 
We’ve explored before the difference between charity and reciprocity,
            and I’m reminded of Prof John Barclay’s groundbreaking work on Christian love.
 
He suggests that the outworking of love in the life of the believer
            should be found in building reciprocity
so that the recipient of assistance is empowered
            to move from dependence to independence.
 
He notes that both in the ancient world and today
            poverty and need are often associated with shame:
the shame of asking, the shame of being dependent upon others,
            the shame of never being able to return a gift, but having to ask again,
            the shame of falling into one-way dependence.
 
In a disconcertingly honest precursor
            to the rhetoric of some of our contemporary populist politicians,
there was some graffiti found in Pompeii which reads:
            ‘I hate poor people, if someone wants something for nothing, he is a fool.
             Let him pay for it’.[1]
 
In this rhetoric, in these harmful and hateful words,
            we find scorn directed against the poor,
            who are perceived as scroungers.
 
And in such circumstances it is unsurprising
            if the poor and needy end up hating the wealthy in return,
            even hating the one-way charity that traps them in their shame.
 
Do we think that people like going to food banks?
            Do we think that people enjoy receiving hand-outs?
Of course not, they hate it,
            and they wish it were different.
 
And so true Christian love builds reciprocity,
            true Christian love releases people from shame and dependence,
            true Christian love creates capacity and agency.
 
The iron rule of community organising
            is to never do for someone what they have the capacity to do for themselves.
 
To put it another way, don’t do for, do with!
 
The purpose of community organising, as it is practiced by London Citizens,
            is to build people’s capacity,
so that they can take power and control
            in and over their own lives and choices.
 
And this is Christ-like love in action, because it leads to new life,
            releasing people from spirals of poverty and debt.
 
And this is why the author of 1 John speaks of hate:
            The danger of hate, and the importance of love
            aren't mere theoretical concepts.
They have real-world consequences.
 
When we cultivate Christ-like love within our community,
            it generates a sense of belonging, support, and shared purpose.
 
It creates a safe haven where people can be vulnerable,
            knowing they will be met with compassion and understanding.
 
And through such a community
            Christ reaches out his healing hand to lift up the broken,
                        to heal the lame and the maimed,
                        and to give hope to the hopeless.
 
Charity without reciprocity creates the context
            in which hate takes root,
it sows division, isolation, and ultimately, destruction.
 
The words of hatred in our society,
            spoken so often out of a sense of alienation and disempowerment,
            only generate works of hatred and violence.
 
So, how do we combat hate and nurture love?
            The answer lies in a conscious shift in our focus:
            we must move beyond ourselves and our own needs.
 
We must practice active listening,
            seeking to understand the struggles of others.
 
We must cultivate empathy,
            allowing ourselves to feel the weight of their burdens.
 
And most importantly, we must be willing to act
            – to offer practical help and support,
            even when it's inconvenient or requires sacrifice on our part.
 
Love in Action: The Assurance and Joy of Belonging (1 John 3:18-24)
So far, in our journey through this passage
            we've explored the limitations of words
                        and the importance of demonstrating love through concrete actions.
 
We've examined the destructive power of hate
            and the life-giving power of love,
            as they relate to Christian acts of charity and reciprocity.
 
And as we come now to the final section of our passage from 1 John,
            we’ll be focusing on the spiritual benefits of love in action
            and the assurance it brings.
 
John, ever the practical guide, offers a clear directive:
            " Little children, let us love not in word or speech but in deed and truth."
            (1 John 3:18).
 
He emphasizes here the importance of authenticity
            – love that isn't merely spoken, but actively lived out.
 
This kind of love isn't just about outward gestures;
            it's rooted in a genuine desire for the well-being of others.
 
John goes on to highlight a key benefit of love in action:
            the assurance it brings.
 
He writes, " by this we will know that we are from the truth
            and will reassure our hearts before him  " (1 John 3:19).
 
When we practice love, when we see others being brought to life,
            we gain a sense of confidence in our faith.
 
Our actions become a tangible manifestation of our beliefs,
            a testament to the transformative power of Christ's love within us.
 
Imagine you have spent weeks preparing a delicious meal for your family.
            You have poured your love and attention into every detail.
But then, as you sit down to eat, no one takes a bite.
            They criticize the appearance, question the taste, or simply lose their appetite.
This scenario would leave even the most enthusiastic chef disheartened
            and questioning their efforts.
 
But if, on the other hand, your family devour the meal with gusto,
            expressing their appreciation for your hard work,
it would fill you with a sense of satisfaction
            as well as confirming your culinary skills!
 
Similarly, when we actively love others,
            it becomes an outward sign of our inward faith.
 
It assures us that we're truly living out
            the significance of our faith in Jesus.
 
John isn't suggesting that our salvation hinges on our actions;
            Christ's sacrifice is the foundation of our faith.
 
However, our actions do serve as an indicator
            of whether we've truly grasped the essence of his message.
 
As Mother Teresa famously put it:
            The fruit of silence is prayer, the fruit of prayer is faith,
                        the fruit of faith is love,
            the fruit of love is service
                        and the fruit of service is peace.
 
And so John reminds his readers
            that God isn't limited by human understanding.
 
He writes, "For even if our hearts condemn us,
            God is greater than our hearts, and God knows everything" (1 John 3:20).
 
Sometimes, despite our best efforts,
            we still struggle with feelings of doubt or inadequacy.
 
Maybe we second-guess our ability to truly love others.
 
But John offers comfort by pointing to God's boundless love.
            God knows our hearts, even the parts shrouded in doubt.
 
This truth liberates us from the burden of self-condemnation.
            It allows us to approach God with confidence,
knowing that God’s love is not a reward for our perfect performance
            but a gift freely given.
 
Even when our best intentions fall short, and our love feels inadequate,
            we can find solace in this truth.
 
John concludes by reminding us of the joy and freedom
            that come with practicing real love:
 
"Beloved, if our hearts do not condemn us,
            we have boldness before God,
and we receive whatever we ask,
            because we obey God’s commandments and do what pleases God."
            (1 John 3:21-22).
 
When we live in accordance with God's love,
            we experience a sense of inner peace and confidence in our prayers.
 
This isn't about manipulating God into giving us whatever we desire;
            it's about aligning our desires with God’s will
and experiencing the joy that comes
            from living in accordance with God’s principles.
 
Ultimately, the call to love in action isn't a burden; it's a gift.
            It's an opportunity to embody the love of Christ,
                        to strengthen our faith,
            and to build a vibrant, supportive Christian community.
 
Let us not be content with mere words of love.
            Rather, let us embrace the challenge to love "in truth and action,"
transforming our words into deeds that uplift, strengthen,
            and offer a tangible expression of God's love in this world.
 
Conclusion
And so we are called to a love that transcends mere words.
            to a love that rolls up its sleeves,
where our words of love create a world of love in action,
            a love that sees the needs of others and offers a helping hand,
            to lift up those who are downtrodden.
 
This is a love that builds bridges within our Christian community,
            creating places of belonging and support.
 
This journey of love in action might require sacrifice.
            It might mean stepping outside our comfort zone,
            offering practical help even when it's inconvenient.
 
But the rewards are immeasurable.
            We gain a deeper sense of purpose,
                        a stronger connection with God,
            and the joy of knowing we're truly living out the message of Christ.
 
So let's together seek opportunities
            to embody transformative love in tangible ways.
Because every act of love, no matter how small,
            contributes to a more loving, more Christlike world.
 
And may God empower us to be instruments of love,
            transforming our words into actions
that bring hope, healing,
            and a tangible expression of God's grace in this world.
Amen.
 

---

[1] Prof John M G Barclay - Beyond Charity: Gift & Community https://youtu.be/xQDmkjIT5AA?si=xSlKOyjsbjIfBPr5

Embraced by Love, Becoming More: A Journey of Transformation

 A sermon for Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church

14 July 2024

 

1 John 3.1-7
 
Have you ever felt like you just can't measure up?
 
Maybe it's the constant barrage of curated perfection on social media,
            the relentless drive for achievement at work,
or even the nagging voice inside our heads
            that whispers doubts about our worth.
 
In today's world, it's easy to feel like we're constantly swimming upstream,
            desperately trying to keep our heads above water
            in a sea of shoulds, coulds, and never-ending comparisons.
 
We chase an ever-shifting image of success,
            defined by external validation and fleeting trends.
 
This is the world many of us inhabit,
            and it’s a world of low self esteem, poor mental health,
            and stress related illness.
 
The question I want us to begin with this morning, though,
            as we return to our summer series looking at the first letter of John,
is whether there is another way to live,
            a way rooted not in the fickle judgments of the world,
            but in unconditional love that surpasses all understanding.
 
Certainly, the author of the epistle seems to think so,
            and he invites his readers to discover a transformative love
that doesn't wait for us to achieve a certain level of performance
            or force us to fit a specific mould.
 
Instead, he describes a love that embraces us exactly as we are,
            flaws and all,
and offers us a path towards becoming the best versions of ourselves.
 
Today’s passage from 1 John offers a powerful antidote
            to the anxieties and pressures of the world.
 
It's a message filled with hope,
            reminding us of our true identity,
and calling us to action as we take our next tentative steps
            on the lifelong journey of becoming more like Christ.
 
I. Beloved Children: Redefining Our Identity in God's Love (1 John 3:1-2)
 
Imagine with me for a moment
            a world where worth isn't measured
by the number of likes on your latest post,
            the size of your bank account,
                        or the prestige of your job title.
 
A world where your value isn't determined by the latest trends
            or the fleeting opinions of others.
 
The first epistle of John invites us to step into such a reality.
 
In the opening two verses we are offered a radical redefinition of our identity,
            one rooted not in external validation
            but in the extravagant love of God.
 
The passage opens with an exclamation
            that resonates with both awe and tenderness:
"See what love the Father has given us,
            that we should be called children of God;
            and that is what we are!" (1 John 3:1).
 
The author doesn't use passive language here,
            rather he uses the imperative "see!"
            “See what love the Father has given us!”
 
He is urging his readers to actively contemplate the magnitude of God's love;
            a love so profound, so all-encompassing,
that they learn to see themselves not merely as the recipients of God’s love,
            but beneficiaries of a transformative gift:
a new identity as children of God.
 
This isn't simply a metaphor or a sentimental title.
            It's a declaration that carries immense weight.
 
In the ancient world, being a child of a deity held significant meaning.
            It spoke of a special relationship, one of privilege and inheritance.
 
But John goes even further.
            He emphasizes the present reality:  declaring, "and that is what we are!"
 
In John’s theology, we are not children of God in some future, contingent sense.
            Rather, we are God's children right now, in this very moment.
 
This truth, properly understood, has the capacity
            to revolutionise the way we see ourselves.
 
Think about the implications.
 
As children of God, we share a deep and irrevocable connection
            with the fundamental force of love in creation.
 
As children of God, we are part of a divine family,
            embraced by a love that transcends human understanding.
 
And our belonging in this family, our status as dearly loved children of God
            isn't based on our achievements, our social status,
            or the ever-changing whims of our culture.
 
Rather, it's a love that sees us for who we truly are,
            flaws and all, and chooses to love us anyway.
 
Now, we might well ask,
            "But what about my mistakes? What about the times I fall short?"
 
Well, the truth is, we all stumble.
            We all make choices that don't reflect the best versions of ourselves.
 
Our reading last week from the first chapter of this letter made that clear,
            ‘If we say that we have no sin,
            we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.’ (1 John 1.8)
 
What John is describing here isn't offering a conditional love
            based on our performance.
 
Rather he's offering a transformative love
            that empowers us to become more like the children we truly are.
 
This love doesn't deny our struggles
            or minimize the importance of confession, repentance and personal growth.
 
Instead, it provides a foundation,
            a safe space where we can acknowledge our shortcomings without shame.
 
It's a love that whispers to us in our darkest moments that we are loved,
            not because of what we do, but because of who we are:
            we are God’s deeply loved children.
 
This unwavering acceptance then becomes the fertile ground
            where genuine transformation can take root.
 
Perhaps like so many of us,
            you've been carrying the weight of unmet expectations
            or feeling lost in a sea of comparisons.
 
Maybe you've struggled to see your own worth
            through the distorting lens of the world.
 
Well, today, the first epistle of John invites you to lay down those burdens
            and step into a new reality.
 
You are a beloved child of God,
            and that is what defines you.
 
This truth, embraced and lived out,
            has the power to transform not just our own lives,
            but the world around us.
 
II. Hope for Transformation: Becoming More Like God (1 John 3:2-3)
Imagine gazing into a blurry mirror
            that only offers a distorted reflection of yourself.
 
You know there's a clearer image waiting to be revealed,
            but you lack the means to achieve it.
 
This is a good image for what the epistle does next,
            as it offers a glimpse into a future where the fog clears,
revealing the full potential of who we are as children of God.
 
The letter offers a transformative vision for what it means to be human,
            and this can serve as a powerful motivator for us
            as we continue our journey of becoming more like Christ.
 
We are given a tantalizing hint:
            “Beloved, we are God’s children now;
                        what we will be has not yet been revealed.
            What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him,
                        for we will see him as he is” (1 John 3:2)
 
The author here acknowledges the limitations of our current understanding.
            We are children of God, yes,
                        but the full scope of what that means remains veiled.
 
It's like a bud on the verge of blooming
            – we see the potential, but the final form hasn't yet been revealed.
 
However, John doesn't leave his readers hanging in uncertainty.
            He offers a promise that fuels hope:
            declaring "when he is revealed we shall be like him."
 
Like a child growing into their full adulthood,
            so those who are declared children of God have much growing still to do,
and just as a child only has a limited understanding of their parents,
            so there is more revelation of God to come
            for those who enter into their status as adopted and beloved children of God
 
This future hope serves as a powerful motivator in the present.
 
John doesn't ask us to passively wait for the future.
            Instead, verse 3 urges us to action:
 
"And all who have this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure." (1 Jn 3.3)
 
The Greek word translated here as "purify"
            carries the idea of ongoing consecration.
It's not a one-time event,
            but a continuous process of aligning ourselves with God's will.
 
Some might interpret this as a call
            to achieve some unattainable standard of perfection.
But John isn't advocating for self-flagellation
            or a performance-based relationship with God.
 
The "hope set on him" provides the context.
            We "purify ourselves" because we are motivated
            by the transformative love and the future hope that God offers.
 
Here's where the concept gets particularly interesting,
            especially for those of us engaged in social justice issues
            and progressive movements.
 
Traditionally, "purifying ourselves" might be interpreted
            as a call to personal piety or individual morality.
 
But consider this: God's love isn't a solitary experience.
            It's meant to overflow and touch the world around us.
 
Imagine God's love as a radiant light.
            As we move closer to that light,
                        we are not only transformed ourselves,
            but we also become instruments of transformation in the world.
 
John's call to "purify ourselves" can be seen
            as a call to align our actions with God's character,
and we know that his is a character defined by love,
            by compassion, and by a commitment to justice.
 
This reframes our efforts towards social change.
 
It's not just about fighting for a better world
            – it's about embodying the love and justice of God in the here and now.
 
When we advocate for the marginalized, fight for equality,
            and work to repair a broken world,
we are actively participating in the process
            of becoming more like Christ.
 
Our journey of transformation therefore isn't about earning God's love,
            but rather is about expressing it.
 
As we move closer to the light of God's love,
            we are empowered to become agents of positive change,
reflecting God’s compassion and justice in the world around us.
 
This ongoing process of purification,
            fuelled by hope and motivated by love,
is the path towards becoming the best versions of ourselves,
            the versions that truly mirror the image of God within us.
 
III. Sin and Forgiveness: The Journey, Not the Destination (1 John 3:4-7)
And then we come to the problem of sin.
            The first letter of John is not some overly-idealistic call
            for love and justice in the name of God.
 
It takes seriously what it means to be human,
            and that means it takes seriously what it means to be sinful.
 
Imagine embarking on a breath-taking hike,
            a journey towards a magnificent mountain peak.
 
The path is challenging, with moments of doubt and fatigue.
            But the breath-taking vista that awaits fuels your determination.
 
In verses 4-7 of our reading this morning,
            the author addresses the inevitable stumbles we encounter
            on our journey of becoming more like God.
 
And in doing so he offers a message of hope and forgiveness,
            reminding us that even on the path of transformation, we will make mistakes.
 
The passage opens with a seemingly harsh statement:
            "Everyone who commits sin is guilty of lawlessness; sin is lawlessness" (1 John 3:4).
 
John doesn't shy away from the reality of sin.
            We all fall short at times,
            making choices that don't reflect the love and compassion we aspire to embody.
 
But here's the key distinction John makes:
            he differentiates between occasional failings
            and a persistent pattern of rebellion against God's will.
 
The Greek word translated as "commits", as in ‘everyone who commits sin’
            suggests a deliberate, ongoing choice
            to live outside of God's loving embrace.
 
This distinction is crucial for those of us
            who struggle with guilt and shame.
We are not defined by our occasional missteps.
 
As John reminds us later in the passage,
            echoing the language of abiding in Christ from John’s gospel:
            "No one who abides in him sins." (1 John 3:6).
 
True transformation doesn't mean achieving some state of sinlessness,
            but rather aligning our hearts with God's will
            and actively turning away from choices that lead us astray.
 
Now, some might wonder,
            "Doesn't this contradict the message of God's unconditional love?"
Absolutely not.
 
The beauty of John's message
            is that it holds both truths in tension.
God's love is unconditional,
            meaning it's not based on our performance.
However, that love motivates us
            to live in a way that reflects his character.
 
Here's where the concept of forgiveness comes in.
 
John writes: "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just
            and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9).
 
This verse from the first chapter is crucial
            in helping us grasp what John is doing here in chapter 3.
 
We don't have to carry the burden of guilt and shame alone.
            When we acknowledge our shortcomings and turn back towards God,
            we encounter forgiveness and a continuation of the process of our purification.
 
But this process isn't about earning forgiveness
            or making deals with God.
Rather, it's about acknowledging the truth of our situation
            and embracing the ongoing transformation offered by his grace.
 
It's a reminder that the journey
            towards becoming more like God is just that – a journey.
 
There will be bumps along the road, moments of weakness,
            and times when we stumble.
 
But God's love remains constant,
            a guiding light illuminating our path forward into the darkness of the future.
 
The passage concludes with a powerful statement of confidence:
            "Little children, let no one deceive you.
                        Everyone who does what is right is righteous,
                        just as he is righteous. " (1 John 3:7).
 
John reminds us that as we live in accordance with God's love and compassion,
            we gradually become more like him.
 
It's not a one-time event, but a continuous process of growth
            fuelled by God's love and forgiveness.
 
This message offers us genuine hope.
            We don't have to be perfect to be loved by God.
 
Instead, we are invited to embrace the journey,
            with all its stumbles and triumphs.
 
As we move closer to the light of God's love, we are empowered
            to become instruments of compassion and justice in the world.
 
So let us walk this path together,
            acknowledging our shortcomings,
            celebrating our progress,
and holding fast to the incredible promise of transformation
            offered by God's unconditional love.
 
Conclusion
So as we reflect on these verses from 1 John 3,
            I hope we’re hearing a message of hope, forgiveness, and motivation.
 
The world may bombard us with expectations and comparisons,
            leaving us feeling like we never quite measure up.
 
But today, we've explored a different reality.
            We are not defined by the fleeting judgments of others,
                        but by the extravagant love of God.
            We are God’s beloved children, embraced exactly as we are, flaws and all.
 
However, this truth should never be a source of complacency.
            Instead, it should ignite a fire within us,
                        a desire to become the best versions of ourselves,
                        reflections of God's love in the world.
 
As we are ourselves purified by God’s love,
            so we too become the agents of God’s love in the world,
embodying through our actions and our community
            what it means to bring justice, peace, and righteousness to others,
            so that they too can encounter God’s love in ways that are meaningful to their lives.
 
And yes, our journey of transformation will have its challenges.
            We will stumble, we will make mistakes.
But John reminds us that God's love is constant,
            a guiding light that illuminates the path forward.
 
So the call is for us to move closer to that light,
            not through self-flagellation, but through compassion and action.
As we fight for justice, advocate for the marginalized,
            and embody God's love in our daily lives,
we actively participate in this transformative process.
 
Remember, this is a journey, not a destination.
            The call is for us to embrace the growth, celebrate the victories,
                        and find comfort in the forgiveness
            offered by a God who loves each one of us unconditionally.
 
So, friends, go into this week, not burdened by expectations,
            but empowered by love.
And may the light of God shine through you,
            transforming your own life and the world around you.
Amen.