Friends of Jesus Sermon by Rev. Peter Shidemantle 6 th Sunday of Easter May 6, 2018 1 John 5:1-6; John 15:9-17 Dr. Manor was my pastor as I was growing up. The kids in our church liked him, as everybody did. I remember watching him in the pulpit, how he really felt what he said and then, when he sat down after preaching. He seemed pretty spent. He d wipe his forehead with a handkerchief, and then he d clench his jaw several times. I could see the muscles on the side of his face and his temple tense and release. (I could see all this because of course the Shidemantle family all eight of us, my mother leading the way had to march the whole way up to sit at the front of the sanctuary every Sunday morning!) I didn t spend all that much time with Dr. Manor outside of these services, but occasionally did. We played ping pong together a few times; he was a good ping pong player. I remember a few visits he made to our home over the years. He was important to me. Sometimes, when I d watch him in the pulpit, my attention was so focused on him that everything around him sort of faded. I thought of him as a holy man not a mystical kind of holy but the kind of holy that wears regular clothes, an every-day kind of holy. While I was at college Dr. Manor left our church and became the Executive Presbyter in our presbytery. We stayed in touch while I was going to seminary. He kept me informed of the steps I needed to be taking to move toward ordination. I remember asking him if there was any way I could get out of taking Hebrew. He checked for me, but let me know that no, I couldn t get out of it. He s well into his 90 s now, living in Florida. I received a lovely letter from him a few years ago after I wrote a letter to him when his wife died. She was important to me too. The three of us younger kids in our family stayed with them for several nights when our mom was in the hospital, and our dad was working the night shift at the mill. 1 of 6
I asked Dr. Manor to give my charge at my ordination service in our home church. The day before the service he took me to lunch, and we talked in a way we had not talked before. He spoke more personally to me, told me how now we were colleagues in ministry and there were things he could share with me now that he couldn t prior to then. Our relationship had changed. I wasn t the kid from his church anymore, or the seminary student under the presbytery s care, but a colleague. We were on a different footing now, and though the ground felt pretty shaky to me, I was honored to be referred to as his colleague. I do not call you servants any longer, Jesus told his disciples shortly before his death, because the servant doesn t know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my father. He was telling them that now they were on a different footing with him. Friends, he called them. Earlier, when they were in the upper room for their last meal together, Jesus washed their feet. He spoke of their relationship as servants and master. But now, as the hour of his death drew even closer, their relationship changes. They are now his friends, he said, because he has kept nothing from them. He includes them in the intimacy of his relationship with God. He has showed them everything I have heard from my father. We speak of the difference between friends and acquaintances. Most of us have a lot of acquaintances, but far fewer friends. We know the difference. Friends are those who fill out our lives in ways that acquaintances don t. They are the ones who knew us when, or who can see through us. We think of them when we hear a good joke, as the first person we want to tell it to. They are the ones for whom we d do almost anything. It s a rare thing, especially in these days with people moving around as much as they do, to be able to maintain lifelong friendships. The deep friendships we make early, in our childhood or youth, and sustain throughout life even if we go long periods of time without seeing each other are a true gift. Maybe you ve had the experience of 2 of 6
a friendship lost, when you or your friend stepped over the line, and something precious was gone. We don t normally think of friendship as something that has conditions attached, but that kind of love can be violated, like any kind of love. Interestingly, in our gospel reading for today, Jesus does seem to attach conditions: If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love... This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another. There are conditions, even though they may not be stated. Jesus states them. If anyone else would state the conditions of a friendship, just as that relationship was beginning, it probably wouldn t go very far. But Jesus states the conditions of our friendship with him not to protect himself if they are broken, like some kind of friendship prenup, but to protect us. He was used to rejection, as God is used to rejection. That s what you open yourself up to if you love as Jesus loved. There was a movie that came out several years ago I don t remember the title in which Mel Gibson played the role of a minister who tragically lost his wife, leaving him with two young children. He leaves the ministry and rejects the God who has broken trust with him. That part of him was dead. One evening at dinner, in the midst of the turmoil and upheaval of the storyline of the film, his young son who suffers from severe asthma yells at him, I hate you. I hate you! His father responds, That s OK. Later in the movie, the son lay in his father s arms, suffering an asthma attack, unable to breathe. The father yells at God, I hate you. Not again. I hate you. And he realizes that the relationship was not dead after all. If he could withstand his son s declaration of hate for him without breaking the bond between them, then would not God do the same? If what we mean by love is a warm emotion, or simple affection, or pounding passion, then Jesus is working from a different direction, another definition. He speaks of love not so much in an emotional way (though the love of God may warm our hearts) but in a deep moral way. Christians are to love out of obedience, obedience not of a servant to a master, but the obedience of a beloved child, of those who have been 3 of 6
brought into the family of God. They are no longer outsiders, but God s own children. Like Jesus, they are in on the Father s counsel, and they must act like it. There is a big difference between being a servant and being a friend. Servants may get quite close to their masters. Bonds of affection may even grow between them. But as the book and then the movie of a few years ago The Help told the story of African American housemaids in the 1950 s and 1960 s, the relationship can only go so far. There cannot be the intimacy of friendship because the roles prevented it. In the end it is fear that determines the servants obedience. This is not to be the nature of our relationship with God. Our obedience to God is shown in love, because we are loved. Greater love has no one than this, that one should lay down their life for their friend. Loving one another as Jesus loved. This is the bond of friendship that Christ has with us, and that we have for one another and that we are to show the world: This is how the world will know you are my disciples, that you love one another. Can human beings love so selflessly? It s pretty easy to be cynical about that, considering all the evidence to the contrary. Our whole political system seems to be based on the assumption that self-interest is the driving force in life. Are you better off? That seems to be the only question that matters. But it seems that now we are at a time in our national life when morality is becoming as important a consideration as selfinterest. Let us hope and pray and work to make it so. I think we know, because we have experienced it, that giving of ourselves to one another, and to others, is the kind of loving that involves sacrifice, which is the most clear and fulfilling demonstration of our obedience to God as friends of Jesus. As Jesus was sharing the intimacy of his life with God with his friends he tells them, These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. The fullness of our joy comes from loving as Jesus loved giving it, and receiving it. I love the story that Fred Craddock tells of how when he was serving as pastor, early in his career, to a small mission church in Appalachia, he came into contact with a wonderful custom that occurred during their baptismal service. The custom was that on 4 of 6
Easter Sunday this congregation would baptize new members at sundown in the shallow waters of a nearby lake. As Craddock tells it, he would wade out onto a sandbar with the candidates for baptism while the little congregation met around a fire and sang hymns. They had also built booths for changing, and when everything was finished they met around the fire to warm themselves. Once everything was together, Glenn Hickey, and no one else, would introduce new folks and share what they did and where they lived. Glenn would slowly work his way around the circle. Every member of the congregation would give his or her name and say something like: My name is Mary, if you ever need somebody to do washing and ironing. My name is Carl, if you ever need somebody to chop wood. My name is Jenny, if you ever need somebody to babysit. My name is Jake, if you ever need somebody to repair your house for you. My name is Bob, if you ever need a car to go into town. Once everybody was finished they would eat a huge meal and soon a banjo or fiddle would be brought out and a square dance would begin. When the darkness had fallen and a chill was in the air, Percy Miller, in his bibbed overalls, would eventually stand up and say, It s time to go. And after everyone was gone, Percy would stay behind and with his big shoe kick sand over the dying fire. Craddock shares that after his first experience of welcoming new members in this way, he noticed Percy standing still behind the fire, and then Percy looked at him and said, Craddock, folks don t ever get any closer than this. In that little community, observes Craddock, they have a name for that kind of experience. I ve heard it in other communities too. In that community, their name for that is church. They call that church. In the 17 th century in England, a saintly man named George Fox came to start the group we now know as Quakers. Horrified by the hostility that had arisen in churches over differences of opinion on points of doctrine and the right way to worship, he decided to rely on what he called the inner light of God in each person and he challenged those who followed him as a spiritual leader to display to the society in 5 of 6
which they lived, and the larger society of which they were a part, a shared life of honesty, purity, and charity, and to work for the cause of peace and the welfare of those in need. They were founders of a group within the Christian family that in many ways has been a challenge and a model for the rest of us. We know them as Quakers, but the name by which they are officially known is the Society of Friends. Do you have to go to church to believe in God or to be a good person? No but to know the joy of friendship with Christ, friendship in Christ to be the church that s where we learn to love one another as God loves us. The name for that kind of experience is church. That s what they call it. 6 of 6