Jesus did not seem very friendly this week in Long Beach. At least not at the convention on worship facilities and technology I attended for one of the very longest mornings of my life in recent memory. All I wanted out of this little excursion down to the Long Beach Convention Center was to possibly get a little information on wireless lapel microphones for our sanctuary, but instead what I ended up getting was a load of theologically-offensive rhetoric which was so shocking to my ears that I could hardly see straight. (but then again, seeing “straight” has never been a real forte.)

Call me crazy but all I really wanted to do was check out this worship facilities conference and expo to maybe get some ideas as we think about making our physical plant more welcoming and more accessible to all people, particularly the disabled, to possibly get some information on parking lot renovations, and yes, to hopefully get some leads on wireless lapel microphones. And I suppose I could have gotten some of that information in the huge exhibition space set aside for those displaying wares of all kinds, including theater-style seating and all manner of “staging” accoutrement such as backdrop curtains, sound and lighting systems, and yes, large-screen projection for your sanctuary viewing pleasure.  This was a mega-church pastor’s and a mega-church “techie’s” and a mega-church wannabe’s dream conference. All the information, all the resources, and all the financing (yes, you can be sure there were also representatives of financial institutions on-hand to discuss creative financing for “facilities expansion”) — all of it was there.

But I realized, when I heard one of the morning plenary speakers, a mega-church pastor from near San Francisco report a statistic (from what source I do not know) that something like 85-90% of the population of the Bay area is unchurched and thus — and I quote — “going to hell,” and therefore a ripe mission field for his church’s potential growth — upon hearing this, all of a sudden I didn’t really want to be there anymore. My interest in shopping for wireless lapel microphone systems sort of did a quick fade-out, and I came back to Santa Monica in serious need of recovery from the shock of such theological toxicity and very grateful to be serving a small but faithful and grace-filled congregation experiencing some healthy growing pains.

Perhaps today’s Gospel text was the filter through which I heard those judgmental and condemning statistics. Jesus uses the word love (the Greek agape) or a form of it no less than 9 times in this short span of 9 verses. And then, blurring the lines of distinction between the master and slave, between the teacher and disciple, between the divine and the human, Jesus calls those who would seek to follow and obey him friends. “You are my friends if you do what I command you,” Jesus says. “I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not 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.”

And just what is it that the Master is up to in the world?  What was it that Jesus had heard from his Father that he was passing along to his friends?

From verse 12: “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”

From verse 17: “I am giving you these commands so that you may love another.”

From verse 9: “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.”

From verse 10: “If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love.”

With Jesus, there’s “a whole lot of lovin’ goin’ on” but it’s not a sentimental kind of affection that another Greek word for love, philia, implies; it’s not the hot and heavy kind of physical desire that yet another Greek word for love, eros, implies. Rather it’s that word agape, that self-giving, others-serving esteem or regard that is not based in emotion but in often-difficult deeds of service extended to our neighbor in need, to a hurting world, and thus to God.

In other words, this agape kind of love isn’t sentimental, rather it is active in service. Even as Jesus embraced the outcast, welcomed the stranger, touched the unclean, healed the sick, visited the lonely and forgotten, and ultimately poured out his very life on the cross, so we too are called to take up our cross and follow his way of agape, of laying down our lives for the good of one another. Whenever you or I engage in any unselfish behavior to promote another’s welfare, we are loving one another as Jesus’ commands.

It’s the kind of love that draws all people into the compelling love and grace of God, a love and grace that chooses us rather than we choosing it, as Jesus teaches in today’s gospel. “You did not choose me but I chose you,” he says to us. “And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last…”

Gerhard Forde, an esteemed professor of Lutheran theology who spent his career teaching at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, MN, often told the story of a student who really struggled with the notion of being chosen sheerly by the love and grace of God in Jesus Christ. Objecting to the professor’s lecture and teaching based on what seemed to be way too unconditional and way too universal, the student said, “Dr. Forde, what you are teaching sounds to me like irresistible grace.”  To which, after a pregnant pause, the grace-steeped professor replied, “I’ve found grace to be irresistible, haven’t you?”

Sisters and brothers, the love and grace of God that chooses us not only chooses us, but chooses all of humanity, every child of earth, and by the cross of Jesus Christ has redeemed the whole world for all time. That message doesn’t need a wireless lapel microphone to be announced as much as it needs your hands in agape-driven service to those in need and your feet to go with the gospel, to go with the good news of love-being-lived, of love-becoming-flesh, to sing this new song to the Lord who in the risen Christ has done marvelous things, to go with the grace that calls not just 10%, but 100% of us, friends.
Amen.