3 B's

Text: 1 John 1:1-2:2
Theme: “3B's”
The Second Sunday of Easter
April 15, 2012
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+

1 That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched—this we proclaim concerning the Word of life. 2 The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us. 3 We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. 4 We write this to make our[a] joy complete.

5 This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. 6 If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth. 7 But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all[b] sin.
8 If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. 9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. 10 If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word is not in us.
1 My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have an advocate with the Father—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. 2 He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world.

Well, we've heard some tremendous selections of Holy Scripture already this morning, and this is all well and good since the celebration of our Lord's resurrection continues. But I'd like to start with a comment or two on a book in the Old Testament that is not featured in the lectionary this morning. I speak of the book of Ecclesiastes. Now, it could be that there are a few here this morning that don't even know there is a book of Ecclesiastes, and that's okay. I suspect others among you have read selections from the book or maybe even the entire thing, but then have moved on. It's not exactly everyone's literary cup of tea. Still others may conclude that it makes for dismal reading except for that part of the book that goes like this: "To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven -- a time to be born and a time to die...," etc. A popular musical group of yesteryear, The Byrds, made it famous in their song "Turn, Turn, Turn."

The trouble with Ecclesiastes, even among Christians, is not that it's purely utopian, on the one hand, or post-apocalytic, on the other. The trouble is that it's almost too real. Ecclesiastes tries to put a square peg into a round hole. It doesn't fit with our fervent yearnings for a more peaceful, just, economically fair, environmentally friendly, and serene world. The book of Ecclesiastes sets us down on the mainstreet of Realville. Ecclesiastes tells us not how it ought to be or how we should hope it to be, but how it is.

The author of Ecclesiastes, most likely, is King Solomon, the son of the great King David. In the first chapter, he opines: "I, the Teacher, was king over Israel in Jerusalem. I devoted myself to study and to explore by wisdom all that is done under heaven. What a heavy burden God has laid on men! I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind."
One of the great commentaries on the book of Ecclesiastes comes from an unlikely source. It doesn't come from a professional theologian tucked away in the ivory tower of academia or in some accredited institution of higher education. It doesn't come from a parachurch group with an axe to grind. Instead, it came from a song-writer and balladeer who hails from Seymour, Indiana. I actually preached a sermon there years ago, but that's another story. I speak of John Mellencamp.
Twenty five years ago, Mellencamp came out with an album entitled The Lonesome Jubilee. He actually quotes Ecclesiastes on the record liner, and many of the songs fit the themes of Ecclesiastes perfectly. I cite just one, and it's called "Paper in Fire". The second verse goes as follows:

He wanted love
With no involvement
So he chased the wind
That's all his silly life required
And the days of vanity
Went on forever
And he saw his days burn up
Like paper in fire.

Holy moly! Man, woman, and child: this is the status quo, the way it is, for many a mortal. People want love. They want it to be unconditional; they want it to be consistent; they want it at their beck and call; and they want it never ending. But (and here's the thing), they want it with no involvement; that's the dirty little self-centered secret. They want love to be something like a spiritual dietary supplement, but they don't want to do the reps. Thus, love becomes little more than a means to an end, another weapon in the arsenal and tool in the kit that people make use of on their journey to self-fulfillment.

When love doesn't work out the way we want it to (whether it be romantic love, the love of a friend for a friend, or the love of God, for that matter), we get frustrated, irritable, and cranky. All of that is a cover for what's really going on. We're afraid. Fear. There you have it.

Fear. That's why the disciples of Jesus gathered behind a locked door on the first Easter evening. Fear. That's why the disciples gathered behind a locked door a week later. But locked doors are a trifle for the risen Jesus Christ. He appears to them; He extends to them that massively wonderful word of peace. Then, on the second Sunday of Easter, He says to Thomas (who doubted that Christ, in fact, had risen from the dead): "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."

Thus, we come to the first fork in the road in today's message. Is it going to be vanity, meaninglessness, and chasing after the wind for an entire lifetime, or is it going to be belief? Whoever you are -- and you know who you are, I'm willing to wait it out with you. Take the entire Easter season (seven weeks, a "week of weeks") to think it through. One of the great hallmarks of the Presbyterian Church is that it values an open mind; it welcomes inquiry. We don't have all the answers in the Presbyterian Church, but we certainly can provide a safe and welcoming place for you to ask the questions. My hope is that you'll do that, that you'll think it through -- and then take the leap anyway. BELIEVE: this is the first B word in the three B's of our sermon title.

The second B word is BELONG. You know, people are big into membership. They're members of the human race. They're members of the upper class, the middle class, the lower class, the bourgeoisie, the proletariat. They're members of LA Fitness, or the Daughters of the American Revolution. They're members of the NRA or the Sierra Club. You get the idea. You can be a card-carrying, flag-waving member of just about any organization that your heart desires. But the question, the deeper question, is this: do you feel as though you really belong? In a culture where it's possible to not even know the names of your next door neighbors for decades, do you really belong?

People do prefer their anonymity. I've visited with folks who attend very large churches. The pews are packed with hundreds if not thousands of people. They're so many folks there that they can arrive late and leave early, and no one really notices. They can be so very alone among so very many people. They attend, but I don't think you could say that they really belong.

The Bible's word for belonging is "fellowship." St. John writes in our text: "If we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin."

Now, fellowship isn't about being BFF's (best friends forever). In short, there are probably going to be people in the church that we wouldn't otherwise hang out with, or consume Cabernet or sip Chardonnay with. And that's okay, because what binds us together -- what gives us a sense of belonging -- is not that we like to hang out with each other. In the church, there are Marys -- and there are Marthas. Mary, you'll recall, was somewhat shy and submissive. Martha, her sister, was a study in contrast. She was a type A personality -- busy and driven and goal-oriented and such. In the church, you'll have your Matthew the tax collectors who are what we would call today liberal or progressive in their thinking. On the other hand, you'll have your Simon the Zealots who are conservative right down to the bone. But what unites them all is not their peculiarities, their personalities, their politics, or their bank accounts. What unites them, what gives them a sense of belonging, what provides fellowship is that, by the grace of the risen Christ, they walk in the light! The first hard fact about them is not their peculiarities, their personalities, their politics, or their bank accounts. What they all have in common is that they are sinners -- and not that they prefer Beethoven, Bach, or Buxtehude to Lady Gaga, Snoop Dog, or the Charlie Daniels band. But, best of all, they believe that the blood of Christ cleanses them from all sin!

They believe and they belong. And third, they BECOME. In just a few weeks, I'm going to attend the annual Men's Conference at Mo-Ranch, a Presbyteran conference center in the Texas hill country. They're hoping for about five hundred men to show up this year, and they've invited me to give my seminar on "The Bucket List". I offered it a few years ago, and what it does is offer a faith-based look at what we want to do with the rest of our lives (or things that we want to accomplish before we die). I named the workshop after the movie of the same name starring Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson.

I have participants list the items, the things they want to do before they kick the bucket. Then I have them list all the things that prevent them from doing those things. The first time I gave the workshop, I got a good many answers, and I can boil them down to just three. First, it would cost way too much money; second, it would take too much time; and third, I'm not sure if it's the "right" thing to do.

Money, time, and morality. At this point, I tell the participants: "Do you know that all three -- money, time, and morality -- can become idols?" In the end, I tell them: "If you can link the items on your list to your faith alone, then go for those items with all the gusto God gave you."

In the end, those who believed discovered that they truly belonged, and they became different people. Our New Testament reading from Acts reveals this. It says of those early Christians that they "were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they shared everything they had."

There are some, in Christian circles, who do not like this passage of Scripture. Why? Because it sounds to them like communism. It seems to follow the dictum of Karl Marx: "From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs." But we're not talking about a worldwide economic system here. We're talking about what happens when people believe the Gospel of the crucified and risen Christ and belong to one another. They become people who share what they've been given. The communism of the world says: "What's thine is mine" -- and it takes a centralized government to do that. The communism of love says: "What's mine is thine" -- and it takes a Christian to do that.

Thus, in the end, we are ones who believe, who belong to one another, and whose lives become ones of service. Along with the assurance of the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting, this is what Easter does, my friends: you believe, you belong, you become. That's all. That's really it. And all God's people said...

Amen.