Love Letter

November 30, 2003 (First Sunday of Advent)

By The Very Rev. James Hubbard, Dean Interim

- Zechariah 14:4-9
- Psalm 50
- 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13
- Luke 21:25-31

(From The Lectionary Page)

Who can resist a love letter? Can you remember the last one you received? Who was it from? Did you love that person? Was that letter irresistible? If you did not love that person, were you in a charitable frame of mind following its reading? Who can resist a letter of love? Can you remember the last love letter you wrote? Who did you write it to? What were your circumstances at the time? Can you doubt that it was wisely written? How often letters composed in anger or hostility are regretted. How seldom love letters are regretted! Oh, you might have wondered whether or not it would be accepted, and your anxiety may have been very real, but in the end love letters are seldom regretted.

This passage from I Thessalonians read as the Epistle this morning is such a love letter. Timothy, Paul’s young associate, had come from these people and passed on to him the news that these Thessalonians remembered him lovingly and longed to see him. How that must have cheered the old apostle. In truth he writes that in all his distress and affliction he has been comforted by the knowledge of their love and their strong faith in the Lord.

St. Paul said it this way, "For what thanksgiving can we render to God for you, for all the joy which we feel for your sake before our God…"  John Watson, better known by his pen name Ian Maclaren, gave himself to his congregation and the city of Liverpool, as the English say, with both hands. As Paul received reciprocal action, so did he. It was said of him at his death that nearly everyone on the streets of the city was affected by his loss. A minister returning home late at night, was alerted when an electric car pulled up, and the driver, white with emotion leaned over the rail. "Have you heard the news?" he said. "John Watson is dead; it is a bad day for us." Paul felt loved like that by the people of this church.

But Paul experienced more than love and gratitude, he prayed earnestly night and day that he might be able to come to them and supply what was lacking in their faith. How much easier it is to want to be with those who love you, and how often is the temptation to be loving with them, uncritical, completely accepting and somewhat blind to their faults, their lazy spots, and their sins of omission, but not Paul. In the midst of his warm and loving words he is thinking of their spiritual life and growth and he is very clear they need to continue growing in their faith, and that he has what they need—the words, the instruction, perhaps the admonition or warning.

My sense of this prayer, which comes night and day, has come from my own experience. When I become aware of a need in one of your lives, I write it down in a log, which I keep and pray through frequently. My best times of prayer for you come when I have the leisure time to pray with the question in mind, "How can I help further this prayer?" How often at those times as I wait in silence, holding you and your needs in the presence of God, does some action come at the suggestion of the Holy Spirit of God Maybe a note or a telephone call, a visit or a call to someone who can help is suggested. A morning spent like that is like a day at the beach, refreshing and renewing. Time spent in prayer with that log and those things which threaten to engulf you is not constant, but regular as I hold you in the presence of God. I suspect that that was Paul’s experience, and even more intensely so.

I am reminded of the Tibetan monk who was responsible for a workshop and for the supervision of several score of young men who worked within it. When they came in the morning this monk retreated to his space in the shop and began to pray for each of the men and their families by name, and so he spent his day. Such supervision became the highlight of the lives of these young men. Would it make a difference on the job if your supervisor were so inclined?

Love letters are treasures, but the treasure is the life lived in love. I am reminded and humbled by the stories of men and women who devote themselves to the lives of their people. Paul was certainly a premier example. But there are also many contemporary examples. One of them is that of Stan Rother, a young Oklahoman priest who went to Santiago Attilan in Guatemala, a few years ago. Henri Nouwen writes of his life and ministry in his book, Love in a Fearful Land. Fr. Nother elected to stay with his people even in the face of threats on his life. One of his letters describes his sense of helplessness when one of his catechists is kidnapped in front of his eyes by three armed soldiers, never to be heard from or seen again. He tells of the muffled screams for help from the hapless young man as the car drives away taking him to his torture and death. But Stan Rother stands firm, having the freedom to return to the United States and safety or to remain in Santiago with his people and danger. His Christmas letter of 1980 reminds me of our Gospel for today. Luke is preparing the church, to which he writes, for the terrible signs of the end which he expects to come in that generation. For them the terror which comes with the signs of dissolution and violence all about are to be signs of hope and expectation, for those whose faith is in Christ, with these signs will come the kingdom of God. Fr. Stan in his 1980 Christmas letter wrote, "A nice compliment was given to me recently when a supposed leader in the Church and town was complaining that 'Father is defending the people.' He wants me deported for my sin. This is one of the reasons I have for staying in the face of physical harm. The shepherd cannot run at the first sign of danger. Pray for us that we may be a sign of the love of Christ for our people, that our presence among them will fortify them to endure these sufferings in preparation for the coming of the Kingdom." (p. 48)  On July 28, 1981, at about 12:30 a.m. three tall, slender men with masks slipped into the parish rectory and failing the possibility of taking him alive, shot him twice in the head and fled, leaving his bleeding body behind. His death has become the seed of the church in that place. He knew the love Jesus had for the people, and that expressed by Paul for those in Thessalonica. Love letters often lead to lives of devotion and lives lived in love may lead anywhere.

Paul’s love for the Thessalonians is tempered only by his love and submission to the direction of God in Christ as he makes clear in his prayer which begins in verse 11. It is out of this loyalty that his love for the people springs. His love is for the Christ of the Damascus road who transformed his life. His love is for the Christ of human experience. Carl Sandburg has a wonderful poem entitled "To a Contemporary Bunkshooter," out of which I have lifted two descriptive paragraphs. They read as follows:

"This Jesus was good to look at, smelled good, listened good. He threw out something fresh and beautiful from the skin of his body and the touch of his hands wherever he passed along.
"I’ve been to this suburb of Jerusalem they call Golgotha, where they nailed Him, and I know if the story is straight it was real blood ran from His hands and the nail-holes, and it was real blood spurted in red drops where the spear of the Roman soldier rammed in between the ribs of this Jesus of Nazareth."

Oswald Chambers spoke to young pastors in training, "Never build your preaching of forgiveness on the fact that God is our Father and He will forgive us because He loves us. It is untrue to Jesus Christ’s revelation of God; it makes the Cross unnecessary, and the Redemption 'much ado about nothing.' If God does forgive sin, it is because of the Death of Christ. God could forgive men (and women) in no other way than by the death of His Son, and Jesus is exalted to be Saviour because of His death. ….

"Anything that belittles or obliterates the holiness of God by a false view of the love of God is untrue to the revelation of God given by Jesus Christ….Jesus Christ hates the wrong in man, and Calvary is the estimate of His hatred." [My Utmost for His Highest, p. 242, November 21st.]

Paul’s invitation and mine is for you to come to know the one whose very life was a love letter to you. But grace did not come cheaply and will never come so. No, it came at the cost of blood, explosions of pain, abandonment and ignominious death. In short crucifixion. This love letter cost this man everything and short of experiencing your own sin and utter unworthiness, grace will never be yours to transform you into new life in that same Christ.

We have made of Advent and Christmas a sort of sweet, chock full of sugar and nothingness, empty calories, if you will, when the message of the season is of blood and judgment experienced by that same man Jesus in order to make love possible. It is the cross which makes sense of stable stories, it is the cross upon which the second coming resonates. John wrote, "Greater love has no man than this , that he will lay down his life for his friend." The love of God for you and me is great beyond comprehension, but oh, at what cost. Is it any wonder that our only worthy response is to make our relationship with Jesus the single relationship that we will not let slip. Attend to the costly love demonstrated for you in the cross and all else will take its place as ordered in the purposes of God for you. Amen.