In the World, Of the Spirit

I John is almost impossible to outline. It is more like jazz than classical music with the dominant themes of love and truth repeating and overlapping, developing. I saw a painting, an abstract, this week at the Buckman Performing Arts Center. Layers of pastels, some areas had paint mashed on with a pallet knife, other areas were smooth with soft edges feathered and fanned out to meet the next color, layer upon layer had been added, and then there were figure 8’s and scrolls made by scrapping off layers to reveal the deeper colors…I John is like that painting.

In the passage we read last week, John affirmed that God is light. If we say we have fellowship with God while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not live according to the truth; but if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another.

What defines the kind of fellowship John is describing? A 12th Century Cistertian monk, Aelread of Rievaulx, wrote about 3 kinds of friendships: carnal friendships, worldly friendships, and spiritual friendships. Carnal friendships are relationships that bring out the worst in us. They bring out all that is base and bitter, unforgiving and mean. They invite us to gossip and be greedy, to satisfy our weaknesses and feed our temptations. Worldly relationships are strategic alliances to get ahead. They are relationships of business card swapping and name dropping. And then there are spiritual relationships; relationships that are based on a common desire to grow closer to God, to know more of Christ, to love unconditionally, without calculation.

In this week’s passage, a new theme in the music emerges, John adds another layer of paint. The fellowship we seek is the fellowship of spiritual relationships. “If any person has the world’s goods,” writes John, “and sees his brother or sister in need, yet bars his bowels against him or her, how does God’s love abide in that person?” If you or I have the ability to help, but we don’t allow ourselves to be moved, to experience that gut-check, to feel the pit in our stomach, then how can God’s love abide in us?

In David Lodge’s best-selling novel Therapy, Laurence Passmore is struggling. He “is so deeply unhappy that he has immersed himself in therapy. He is in psychotherapy, aromatherapy, physiotherapy, cognitive-behavior therapy, and acupuncture therapy. [Laurence’s] psychiatrist has him write down a list of all the things that are right about his life and all the things wrong. On the “things right” side, he lists: professionally successful, well off, good health, stable marriage, kids successfully launched into adult life, nice house, great car, and as many holidays as I want. On the “things wrong” side he lists one thing: I am unhappy most of the time.” (Stan Mast, Calvin Seminary)

What is missing? Laurence Passmore lives in the world. He is successful in the world. But he is not of the Spirit. For John, eternal life begins now. It isn’t something we wait until our bodies die to inherit. The Spirit abides in us, and we have confidence before God. Now here, verse 22, is a verse just waiting to be taken out of context and be a soundbite or tweet gone wrong: “We receive from him whatever we ask, because we keep his commandments and do what pleases him.” It is so easy to skip the conditional phrase that precedes that promise, “If our hearts do not condemn us…” If our hearts have only love, only light, only good…no hate, no darkness, no evil. This is the work of spiritual relationship: to live in the world, and be of the spirit.

But, it is never a finished work. Like all of us, Laurence Passmore does not have assurance; he is not at peace because he has barred his bowels, his heart is closed. Even though he has worldly goods, but he does not see the needs of the world. Dr. Richard Bauckman says of this passage in I John, “The clearest sign of sin is the lack of love.” Light and dark, good and evil, love and hate – there is no grey area.

This is the truth John writes, “We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love our fellow man….Let us not love in word or speech but in deed and in truth.”

I read this week about Coastal Carolina Presbytery’s newest church – chartered in November, The First Hispanic Presbyterian Church. They worship at Galatia Presbyterian Church. Last summer, they hosted VBS in a park near the church. Eighty percent of the children who came were not members, and as they met and learned together and worshiped together, they built relationships. Some of the children had not seen their parents who have been deported to their home countries, in the children’s words, “for a long time.” And then as the week went on, they asked the VBS leaders for hugs. Their pastor describes it as “a miracle of God. These children told us they felt like they were embracing their parents — and that they felt the love of God through us like they’d never felt before.” (https://www.presbyterianmission.org/story/pcusa-charter-congregation-ministers-neighborhood-children-deported-parents)

The same day, I had lunch with the pastors of Germantown. Each quarter, Mayor Palozzolo invites us to gather. This quarter, Maricio Calvo he invited to speak from Latino Memphis. I learned that about 10% of the population of Shelby County is Latino, and they are mostly young. I learned a lot about immigration and DACA. I left wondering what needs exist in that population that I might meet. I left wondering how I might share the love of God.

And as I’ve reflected, I wondered how many other people I have not noticed in my midst. How many other needs I have not seen. I wonder where those children are now. Who tucks them in at night? Will they wait until VBS this summer to be hugged again? Where are those children in our city? Because we live in the world for a reason: we are in the world to be of the Spirit, a Spirit of truth and love. May we not bar our bowels and close our hearts but love in deed and in truth. Amen.