Cliff Loesch
May 6, 2007
No Burping in Public
John 13:31-35
You
probably know that in states and cities over the years some very strange laws
get passed. Here is a small sampling of
some of these unusual laws: In Hartford, Connecticut,
for instance, you are not allowed to cross a street while walking on your
hands. In
We ask how do people come up
with these strange laws? How many hours
of debate in city halls and in state capital buildings went into the passing of
these odd laws? Did anyone ever stop to
think how ridiculous these city ordinances and state laws would seem to future
generations? What a waste of time. Did these laws really address some critical
need of the community? Throwing bales of
hay out of second story windows could be a hazard, of course. But so could throwing lots of other objects
out the window. Why didn’t this law
cover other objects? I guess this law,
like most all the strange laws, must have dealt with a particular problem they
were having—and passing a law must have seemed like the only way to deal with
it at the time. But a law that you
cannot transport an ice cream cone in your pocket? If only our elected officials could realize
that we want them to spend their time working on more important matters.
Our lives are filled with laws and rules. The people around us have expectations of us—both spoken and unspoken. Many people, at their workplace, have employee handbooks (sometimes really thick ones) that are filled with guidelines and codes and policies. When you enroll your children in school you have to read and sign a stack of papers making sure you understand some of the most serious rules—having to do with weapons and drugs and things like that. Yet in addition to the many written rules that fill all of our lives there are also many unwritten rules and expectations that we have to follow. According to my sources, and as I mentioned a moment ago, apparently there is a law in Halstead, Kansas against loud burping while walking around the airport. But this is an example of a rule that most people would follow anyway—without an ordinance passed by the city council. Somehow we simply know that loud burping is something we should try to avoid in public places. It’s one of those unwritten expectations that society places upon us. Written or unwritten our lives are absolutely filled with commands, laws, rules, and expectations.
In Jesus’ day, the Pharisees were known for the many laws and rules that they created. They were constantly coming up with new rules for just about everything. Concerning keeping the Sabbath, they had rules for how many steps you could take on that day. And all kinds of other, little rules. But not only did they make a lot of rules for themselves—they also tried to impose these rules on everyone else. Jesus often spoke against the heavy burden that the Pharisees placed on people in the name of religion. And as you recall, in Matthew 11, Jesus said, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” He was talking about the heavy burdens that the Pharisees placed on people. In contrast, Jesus said, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
But Jesus had some commandments of his own. In our passage for today, John 13:31-35, Jesus said, “I give you a new commandment.” A new one. I wonder what Jesus’ disciples thought when they heard this? “Another commandment? Not you, too, Jesus. Don’t turn into a Pharisee on us.” Or did they eagerly embrace this new teaching that Jesus gave them?
Well, I imagine that they embraced it pretty well. At least at first. After all, it seems to make sense. And it seems to be important. It’s a completely different kind of command than don’t transport ice cream cones in your pocket, or don’t eat snakes on Sunday, or don’t burp loudly while you’re at the airport. But as quick as they were—and as quick as we are—to embrace this new command, why is it such a hard one to follow? It is, you know. It can be hard work to love other people.
I have a student in my philosophy class that wrote some interesting things in a paper. He was asked to address the question, “Does God Exist?” In his paper he wrote that he grew up going to church a lot—several nights a week. But his doubts about religion started at a very young age. He said, “When I began to look around at all of the internal bickering that was taking place between the members of the congregation in the building that was supposed to be the house of the Lord, it made me begin to think that there must either be some flaw in the teachings that were being presented to me on a daily basis, or that the group of people I was ‘worshiping’ with had chosen to live above the teachings. The latter theory was soon proven false as I saw the same quarrels taking place in every other church that I attended. I started to wonder how strong the teachings could be if the people who devoted their lives to them couldn’t live by them.” [Student, Spring 2007] It’s a little hard to know what to say in reply—and it’s very sad that he has witnessed that degree of quarreling in different churches. It’s a paper that I graded earlier this week, and I simply wrote in the margin, “This Sunday I am speaking on the passage, John 13:31-35, where Jesus gave his disciples a ‘new’ commandment—to love one another. He went on to say that people would know that they are his disciples because they have love for one another.” Then I continued by saying, “The teachings are great. But people are people (meaning perpetually imperfect). I have grudgingly reconciled myself to the fact that people in churches [in all churches] will always have some quarrels. Unfortunately, conflict seems to be inevitable. But the teachings of the Bible encourage us to rise above it all and seek for a higher way of relating to each other. Needless to say I have preached on the topic of loving one another, and on this particular passage, many times. But because of our tendency to fall short so often, we all need many, many reminders of the command to love one another.”
And we do need many reminders. One sermon about loving one another is not enough. A reminder once a year is probably not enough. We all need to be reminded on a regular basis of the importance of loving others.
For Jesus, love was one of his most prominent teachings. I think I’ve mentioned this before—but there are at least three groups that Jesus specifically told us to love. Here, in John 13, he told his disciples to love one another. So we start with loving each other deeply. Those who are followers of Christ should be known by the love that they show for each other. But Jesus does not stop there.
In addition to loving those who are walking beside you on your spiritual journey, Jesus also highlighted what he calls the second greatest commandment—that we should love our neighbor as ourselves. And when you start asking the question, “Who is my neighbor?” you quickly see that he was not just talking about the people who live next door. Almost anybody, you begin to realize, fits into that category of neighbor. The question, “Who is my neighbor?” crosses many lines that we sometimes draw—denominational lines, national borders, cultural or ethnic differences, those in other religions—all these and many more should be treated as our neighbor. And we are to love our neighbor as we love ourselves.
But Jesus did not stop here, either. As you know, in the Sermon on the Mount, he really pushed the limits when he taught that we should even love our enemies.
So there you have it: love your brothers and sisters in Christ, love your neighbor, and love your enemies. It goes without saying that the kind of love will vary from one to the other—but it’s all love, nevertheless. Is all this impossible? Is it impractical? Perhaps you have thoughts about those questions. Certainly that kind of all-encompassing love seems beyond our reach much of the time, perhaps seemingly impossible. But I want to leave you with this question to ponder: Should we even try? I think you know the answer to that.