Maybe you have heard of the 6-word story challenge. Apparently, as the story goes, author Ernest Hemingway was having lunch with some of his writer friends. He bet them that he could write a full story using only 6 words. After his friends put their money down on the table, Hemingway jotted a few words on a napkin and passed it around the table. It read, “For sale. Baby shoes. Never Worn.” And of course, Hemingway won the bet. The other writers couldn’t deny that it was indeed a full story–and that all Hemingway needed was 6 words to tell a compelling story. Some say this is only an urban legend, and Hemingway is not the source of the 6-word story. But that doesn’t really matter for our purposes this morning.
Since then the idea of summarising something in 6 words has taken off, and with the help of the internet morphed into all sorts of challenges. Creative writing teachers have used it to coach their students in the craft focusing on what is the essence of what they want to say. Can you write your life story in 6 words? How about your faith story? Can you summarise Christianity in 6 words? And so on. What about a 6-word sermon? Is that possible? Perhaps Mark and Kevin and I should stage such a contest…
In one of her recent posts on her Burning Bush Forest Church blog, Wendy Janzen described how, in the month of February, she took on the spiritual practice of writing a six-word sermon each week based on time spent in creation. She describes it as a “simple way to focus and synthesise your thoughts and reflections.” You can read her 6-word sermons on the Burning Bush Forest Church website. I was inspired by that and decided that it could be a discipline for me during the season of Lent–write a six-word sermon for each week of Lent leading up to Easter. It is a helpful practice, and seems somewhat fitting for Lent. After all, Lent begins in the wilderness–paring down to the essentials, releasing whatever is extraneous, giving up or letting go of what is no longer necessary or life-giving. To choose only 6 words is a good Lenten discipline. It makes you focus on what is essential–what is at the heart of the story of Jesus’ journey to the cross.
So here goes my 6-word sermon for the first week of Lent:
“In every wilderness, God is near.”
And for the second week:
“Fear not. God’s love is stronger.”
And for this week:
“God loves you no matter what.”
There. Now I should be able to sit down. That is all I need to say. Except…what if you don’t believe me? What if you can’t accept it? You see, this 6-word sermon seems particularly hard for many of us to trust. I think I am going to need more than 6 words to convince you that this is true!
I remember a conversation I had once with a friend of mine who was a pastor at the time. She decided, just for interest’s sake, to count up all the sermons she had preached in her years as a pastor. It was over 800 at the time. And then she said something that has stuck with me ever since. She said, and every one of those 800 sermons was the same message with different words. I preached the same message over 800 times: “God loves you no matter what.” I had to preach that same sermon over and over again she said, because it is what people most needed to hear. They didn’t need to hear about how they had sinned and failed and disappointed God. They knew all about that. They needed to be assured of God’s love. That’s the only thing that would transform them.
The problem is, many of us, maybe even most of us, don’t dare to trust that God’s unconditional love is true, or meant for us. Oh of course, we want to believe that God loves us. We say we believe that God loves us. But there is a difference between saying we affirm or believe something at an intellectual level and actually knowing and trusting it in our gut–experiencing in real encounters with God.
I can affirm that I believe God is love. I can preach and teach that God is love. I can understand it in my head and articulate it on paper. I can find lots of biblical references to illustrate that it is true. I can coach people in encounters with God through spiritual direction or at a retreat. But do I actually know it down at the very core of my being? Do I actually trust that it is true, for me? This is something that I have been exploring with my spiritual director. Can I allow myself to experience and encounter the love of God fully and unconditionally? Do I trust that it is so? Can I live from that place of belovedness, rather than from a place of needing to prove that I am good enough?
That’s the real issue, isn’t it? It is hard to accept God’s love unconditionally. Somehow we feel like we need to prove ourselves worthy of that love, do something good, or even great to prove that we deserve God’s love. We assume we need to earn God’s loving attention, like we so often feel we need to earn love in our human relationships.
We Mennonites in particular, have a tendency to feel like we need to earn God’s love. With our emphasis on discipleship–following Jesus in life, putting our faith into active practice, doing good works and serving others, we can fall into the trap of thinking we are earning God’s love–the more good we do the more God will love us. It can even lead to feelings of self-righteousness–of looking down on others who are not as good as we are, tempted to think that because of our good works, we are better than others, and even have the right to judge others.
It’s a tricky relationship between grace and good works, and there have been many debates down through the years of church history over this one. We don’t want to take grace for granted– what some have called “cheap grace:” Rest easy. We can do or say anything we want, and it won’t jeopardise our salvation, because God loves us. Nor do we want to make grace so costly that we are always striving, working, trying to earn God’s favour, never convinced that we are good enough.
Spiritual teacher and writer Henri Nouwen says that it is not easy to hear God’s message, ”You are my beloved in whom I am well pleased.” He says, “It is not easy to hear that voice in a world filled with voices that shout: ‘You are no good, you are ugly; you are worthless; you are despicable, you are nobody…’ These negative voices are so loud and so persistent that it is easy to believe them. That’s what he calls the “great trap of self-rejection” (Nouwen, 31). And he says, “self-rejection is the greatest enemy of the spiritual life because it contradicts the sacred voice that calls us the ‘Beloved’” (Noewen, Beloved, 33).
With this week’s theme we emphasise that we are God’s beloved, created in the very image and likeness of God, and that there is nothing we can do, or not do that will make God love us any more or any less. And of course that means God loves everyone else that way too. It is a simple but profound message! It can be summarised in just six words. A pretty awesome message if we can trust it, claim it and know it deep in the very core of our being! We shift from feeling like we need to earn God’s love, to trusting that God’s love for us is unconditional, and comes as a gift. It changes everything if we know it to be true.
But how did I get to my 6-word sermon, “God loves you no matter what,” from these Scripture texts? At first glance it might seem like a bit of a stretch! The Luke text for today is a strange one–a bit harsh even. In this text, Jesus replies to news of two terrible incidents that cost many lives. In one case he learns that Pilate, the Roman governor in Judea, had murdered some Jewish pilgrims from Galilee as they were offering their sacrifices at the temple. And then he mentions the case of eighteen people who died when the tower of Siloam collapsed on them. In both cases he asks, “were they the worst sinners” in Galilee or in Jerusalem for this awful tragedy to happen to them? To this he says emphatically, “No.”
This part of Jesus’ response I can resonate with. He says we are not to blame for the bad things that happen to us. It is not because of some sin in our life that we are suffering. Here we have Jesus addressing the pressing question that is on everyone’s mind. Why do bad things happen to people? Is it a punishment for something they have done wrong? This isn’t just a question for people in Jesus’ day, but reflects an unease in our day too. Why do bad things happen? On one hand we are drawn to this simple division–those who are good will prosper and those who are bad will suffer. Psalm 1 paints a picture of that kind of world–the world as it should be. Those who follow God’s laws thrive and prosper, and God watches over them and protects them. The wicked are judged, they suffer and they perish. Life as it should be, right?
But we know that is not how life works. And the Psalmist knows it too, for from there on the Psalms reflect that all is not as it should be.
It’s the second part of Jesus’ response that bothers me! He says, “unless you repent , you will all perish as they did” (Luke 13:3,5). This message makes me uncomfortable, if I am honest. It makes God sound harsh and judgmental. Jesus’ words here are urgent. Here he sounds a lot like John the Baptist, who preached repentance and warned people to “flee from the wrath to come” (Luke 3:7). What does he mean? It turns out that Luke puts a lot more emphasis on repentance than any other gospel writer does. Luke emphasises that it is important to make a decision, to repent and then to bear good fruit.
So perhaps Jesus’ challenge in this strange passage is two-fold. Don’t judge others when bad things happen to them, assuming they deserve what is happening to them because of some sin. And don’t assume that when people prosper that God is blessing them with extra favour. Perhaps Jesus is also challenging us to resist the urge to place people in categories–to try and decide ourselves who or what is good and who or what is evil. We end up making assumptions and judging people or becoming self righteous, and not able to see our own faults and our own need for repentance. Let’s remember the tree of the knowledge of good and evil was the one Adam and Eve were told not to eat from…
One of the most profound quotes I have heard, and that has stayed with me goes like this: “If only it were all so simple! If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either — but right through every human heart.” (Alexandre Solzhenitsyn)
The strange passage we just looked at in Luke is followed by the parable of the fig tree. That is the reason why we have gardening tools on our front display. Jesus says, “a man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard: and he came looking for fruit on it and found none” (Luke 13:6). So he instructed the gardener to cut it down because it is just wasting space in the garden. But the gardener calls for patience. Wait one more year. Let me dig around its roots and put manure on it. If we don’t get figs next year then we can cut it down. I did a little research into fig trees. Apparently they do need 3 years or so after being planted in order to produce fruit. So maybe this is a case of an impatient land owner, who doesn’t really know anything about the trees and vines on his land. Fig trees also tend to have very shallow roots, so they can easily dry out and drop their leaves as a result. Perhaps it was a dry season and the fig tree was suffering. If that is the case it makes the landowner seem harsh and uncaring.
This is a parable about patience, and tenderness, about extra care, special attention, and about second chances, And God as the loving gardener stands in sharp contrast with the image of the harsh and judgmental landowner who is ready to cut down the fig tree. So why does Luke put this parable next to that harsh sounding “repent or perish” passage? One commentator suggests that Luke likes contrasting ideas. In this case, “God’s mercy is still in serious conversation with God’s judgement” (Fred B. Craddock, Luke: Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching, 169).
Our second passage, from Isaiah 55 is also about God’s mercy and love. Here we have an invitation to the Jews still living in exile in Babylon, to come home. The writer paints a picture of what a joyous homecoming it will be for them, if they choose the way of life being offered by Yahweh. This is a description of a covenant renewed. In the past God made and renewed the long-standing covenant with successive generations of Israelites. Eventually God made and renewed that covenant with each new king–there was a special relationship between Yahweh and King David’s line. But that covenant became a crisis when the people were defeated by Babylon and sent into exile. It was a national defeat and a national shame. They lost their land and their identity as a people. But more than that the exile caused them to question, Was Yahweh powerless? Did Yahweh even care? As a result, many people turned away from Yahweh, adapted and settled into their life in Babylon. We might think that the Jews would have jumped at the chance to leave Babylon and return to their homeland. But the traumatic event of the exile left many doubting Yahweh. This text in Isaiah invites them to return to the land and to Jerusalem and to their loving covenant with Yahweh.
The first verses we read sound like the voice of a street vender, or a vendor at the market. Come buy and eat. Why would you invest in that life back in Babylon that doesn’t satisfy you? Why would you buy junk food when you can have the rich food Yahweh is offering you for free? And this is not just for you, but the blessing of the covenant has been expanded to embrace the entire community. Even other nations will be drawn to you when they see how your God cares for you.
Like we said earlier, it is often hard for us to believe in God’s unconditional love. I could teach and preach it all I want, and analyse this text thoroughly, but not internalise its truth–not feel it or experience it. So I am going to invite you to enter into this text in your imagination–to actually see if we might be able to experience and catch a glimpse of this great love that God has for us.
In your imagination, put yourself into this text. Perhaps close your eyes, or soften your gaze. I will set the scene for you. Imagine a scene like the Waterloo Farmers Market at the height of summer abundance. Every stall and every stand is overflowing with the bountiful produce of the summer–sweet berries, ripe red apples, juicy pears, melons and sweet corn, peas and beans and summer squash. Or if you prefer biblical images, figs and olives, pomegranates and apricots, nuts and seeds and spices, meats and cheeses. The tables and baskets are overflowing, full to the brim. And other vendors are selling food and drinks made from these freshest of ingredients–sparkling fruit juice, rich wine, baskets of fresh bread. It is a feast for all of your senses. The smells are rich and savoury. Your mouth is watering. But you need to be sensible and careful. You only have a few coins and you need to spend carefully. The vendors are hawking their wares in their singsong chants, trying to catch your eye, catch your attention. Over here! Taste and see if these aren’t the best in the land! Check these out. They are the finest you will ever taste. But then you hear the strangest thing. Everyone who is thirsty, come! Even if you have no money, come take your pick! There is no price on any of this today! Take milk and wine without money. Everything is free! Why would you spend your money anywhere else? Why would you spend your money on junk food that will not satisfy you when you can eat what is good here. Delight yourselves with the finest food. Eat only the best. What do you choose? How does it taste?
This is God’s table–God’s market stand. God is the vendor, but everything is free, and you are invited to this sumptuous feast. How do you feel? How do you respond to God? Did you get to taste that love for you, just a little? Can you savour it?
We might still be tempted to ask, But why God? How is this possible? How could this all be available to me? How is it possible that I can have whatever I need from this abundant table?
“‘My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,’ says Yahweh. ‘And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine. For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways, and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.’”
That is for sure. This doesn’t seem like it could be real or possible. But this is a measure of God’s love for us–abundant, overflowing, rich and delightful and freely given, unearned, undeserved.
So, let me return to my 6 word sermon for today: “God loves you no matter what.” And if God’s love is for you then it is also for everyone else. There is nothing you can do or say that will make God love you any more or any less. There is no need to try and prove ourselves worthy, no point in trying to earn God’s affection. In this case seeking God’s way and returning to God means accepting the overflowing abundance from God’s market stand. Shifting from earning God’s love to simply receiving it. And that is what will transform us.That will make all the difference.