God is an Action
Sermon by the Revd Dr Brutus Green
Readings: 1John 4:7-end; John 15:1-8
Oberon, our two-year-old, has for some time spent some of his days with a wonderful childminder. In the morning when I run him over before work, I’ll say “we’re going to Nicolette’s house.” With two-year-old charm this has contracted to ‘lette’s house’ Unfortunately, with two-year-old charm, Oberon has also understood this to be her name; So at the end of the day he now says to her ‘Bye lette’s-house’ Malapropisms are a continuous event for 2-year-olds. At present he understands the concept of colour. He knows the name of all the colours. But his probability of correctly identifying the right colour is no better than if he were entirely colourblind. Which is also looking like a possibility.
Speaking of malapropisms, I heard recently that at a former church of mine, the cantor went slightly wrong at the acclamation. She was supposed to sing “Dying you destroyed our death, rising you restored our life. Come Lord Jesus.” Unfortunately, she sang “Dying you destroyed our death, rising you destroyed our life.” A rather bleak take on the Easter miracle.
On our way home from Lette’s house, for quite some time we would rehearse all the noises animals make - The lion – roar The camel – ppppprr The octopus – fllbllbllbbblbb It’s only occurred to me recently that while he enjoyed the game he had no idea what half those animals even looked like. This has all changed now we have been to Battersea zoo. The glorious freedom that ends lockdown.
Now, I mention this because we’re in a similar position to 2-year-olds when it comes to religious language. Words referring to abstractions we’re not completely sure about. I can’t draw a picture of grace; I can’t point at sin; Though there’s a couple of sinners out there I could point to! I can’t show you God.
Jesus knew this. So he told stories and he acted in the world. When he told the story of the prodigal son, who wasted and dishonoured and rejected his father at great personal cost; But was welcomed home without resentment, with joy, he drew a picture of grace. When all the old men are pointing at the disgraced woman and crying ‘sinner’, And Jesus says, ‘let he who is without sin cast the first stone’, And all depart, beginning with the eldest, He points at what sin is. And in solidarity with all things in heaven and on earth; in speaking truth-in-love to power-in-violence; to point to the value that God has for the least of us; to demonstrate the redemption of our suffering in time; and the care we should have for one another; in crucifixion and resurrection; he shows us God.
Now we have learned as humans to count things. Things are real, everything else is shadows. 7 billion people, 35 million camel, 300 species of octopus, And one God.
Only this confuses the matter. God is not like the great octopus in the deep. The Christian God is really much more like an action. And with proper reflection, we find that actions are much more real than things. What is more real, the photograph album, which may or may not be in your attic, should you ever get round to looking for it – Or the grief you still feel ten years on for a friend or partner or parent? Does it really help an hour into your dental surgery, or having trapped your finger in the car door, to know that pain is “just in your head”? Can you articulate the fearful, joyful, adoring frustration you have for a child, which is the most important thing in your life, in such a way that would make someone who does not have children fully understand? Actions define our lives in a way that things just don’t.
Jesus didn’t point at, or draw things, he told stories – because that’s how you convey actions. And when Philip is asked to explain Scripture, he tells the story of Jesus, because the Good News is something that happened. God is not experienced as a thing, but as an action.
And as a sidenote, atheists are usually quick to tell you – or me at least – that there is no God. It answers the wrong question. The right question is not “is there a thing called God out there?” but “can you in the work of creation, the beauty of this life, and the actions of men and women, see the activity of God?” The answer might still be ‘no’! but at least it’s a better question.
Today’s epistle tells us that God is love. Love is another vague term. Second rate preachers love to bang on about the four Greek words for love. In truth there are many more than four types of love and not all of them have Greek words like storge – which I’ve always felt sounds more like a heavy English pudding. Nor do they all have anything to do with Christianity. The Gospels don’t all agree on much but the injunction to love thy neighbour or love one another is in all of them. For St Paul it’s the highest theological virtue ‘faith, hope and love, abide these three, and the greatest of these is love’ And here for St John, one step further, God is identified as love itself. But more than this, more than the vague abstraction, it’s the story of God choosing involvement in creation, of serving others, of choosing truth over compromise, others over himself, commitment over freedom, suffering over self-interest, that we have this primary account of what love is. And this is God. Christianity defines love as an action made by God.
Which is why St Paul can say that faith without love is meaningless, because it’s faith without God. Why St John can say ‘whoever does not love does not know God’ – because God is love. And to know love is experience it as an action, not a thing. And, never mind your prayers, your singing, your deep thoughts, your position on the PCC, it’s really the simple act of putting someone before yourself which is the basis of all Christian spirituality.
I ‘ve taken a great many funerals in the last twelve months and it’s this epistle from John, which is never requested, but I very often quote from. Because the evaluation, the significance, the meaning of a person’s life as it is seen at the end is always ‘how did they love?’ I’ve never heard people comment on how many or what sort of thing a person had. As I said, things are never as important as actions. But rarely do people comment on whether someone was ‘moral’ and even for Christians I don’t often hear very much on their faith – their opinions or church attendance. Perhaps surprisingly, there’s usually very little mention of whether they were successful. Maybe we’d find it gauche; Perhaps a long retirement makes worldly success seem a distant memory.
The final shape of a life, what defines it, is almost always articulated in how a person loves. Their place in a family; Then their friends and community; What was the joy and comfort they brought to other people. And also that they received from other people. I would say that it’s a universal feature of every funeral arrangement I’ve ever made. And it would probably do us all some good to remember that this is the criteria by which we will finally be measured and understood.
Two-year-olds instinctively understand this. And two-year-old boys are men of action not things. At least until their toy ambulance gets left behind on the beach. And as much as we may wrangle and wrestle with the abstract terms of theology; We are hearing stories from day one. We are experiencing love and vulnerability from day one. The action of God’s love in giving life and accompanying us to the end begins before day one; So no wonder Jesus said ‘let the little children come unto me.’ God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God and God abides in them. Let’s believe not in things but actions. Let us love God and our neighbour; And in doing the one let us recognise the other. Amen.