A Sermon: The Greatest Love of All
Webster defines sermon as religious discourse delivered by clergy. The listing for sermon in Dictionary.com includes a modern take on it: long, tedious speech.
Are sermons helpful? Is a sermon a show or a teaching? Is it useful teaching? Or is it typically a soon-forgot familiar weekly distraction for declining numbers of us who might just take a nap while listening to it, like we do during our favorite television shows?
To avoid the tedium of repetition, sermons these days sometimes entertain like television shows, sometimes including video clips or singing shouting athletic preachers.
The ancient sermons of Jesus were far from tedious, though I don’t think he jumped around or sang or whooped. Yet, his teachings were real rousers that unnerved listeners, made some angry, and never put anyone to sleep, as Apostle Paul’s did, as far as we know.
What I admire most about the teachings of Jesus is their freshness, their newness. They never fail to give his hearers fresh new ways to think about whatever he sets them to thinking about, new ways to understand and respond to old traditions, fresh outlooks on divisive cultures.
My favorite is his sermon on the greatest commandments. I’m awakened by his insight that while we’re not God, we’re made like God and can (must!) love thusly. And I’m taken aback by the starkness of his clarification on how we must measure our love for God.
In Matthew 22:37-40, Jesus said, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great, first commandment. And the second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two depend all the Law and the Prophets.”
In our contemporary vernacular, like is not a compelling word. Indeed, it’s a rather weak word: I like frozen yogurt. Susan likes to go swimming. Your brother, Fred, looks like my cousin Henry. A sermon is sometimes like a weekly television show.
But, on the contrary, Jesus used the word like to illustrate critical concepts. He used like to break down something he really wants listeners to get: The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed (Matthew 13:31). The kingdom of heaven is like leaven (Matthew 13:33). The kingdom of heaven is like hidden treasure (Matthew 13:44). Using their everyday language and familiar experiences, Jesus helped his first-century listeners perceive truth.
What is that truth?
The kingdom of heaven is like a tiny mustard seed which, when planted by a farmer, can grow to be the biggest of plants, even a tree that will be a place where birds can live!
What is that truth?
The kingdom of heaven is like the smallest bit of yeast which, when a baker mixes it with a large amount of flour, will cause it all to rise!
What is that truth?
The kingdom of heaven is like hidden treasure! Like a young sheepherder whose own family doesn’t see his king potential. Like a child, born in a barn, whose vast greatest is yet to be known.
What is that truth?
We are all made by God to be lovers of God; yes, we can! But the only true measure of our success at that is the measure of our God-like love for all others: our inclusive love of all our neighbors, a love as deep as the love we have for ourselves, for our own families, for our own countries. Yes, we can, and we must! All right theologies, all purposes of God, every aspect of obedience and honor we show to God rest on that.