Sunday, May 5, 2024 – Easter 6
First Congregational Church of Cheshire
© the Rev. Dr. James Campbell
John 15:9-17
As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. 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. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.
‘This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. 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. You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.
We have a Boston Terrier named Max. And let’s just say that Max is a ball of energy. He is funny and endearing and demanding and maddening, all at the same time. And Max is an incredible athlete. He can run and jump and leap and fetch until our arms are ready to fall off.
Before Max, we had another Boston Terrier, named Ella. And Ella couldn’t have been more different. She was quiet and polite, obedient and snuggly. We would toss a ball from time to time, but Ella would just look at it like it from another planet. We laugh now and say that Ella probably didn’t give us the best idea of what a Boston Terrier is really like.
We loved Ella. And we love Max. And we both have unique ways of showing that love. Me? Well, sometimes, when no one is looking, I lean close and sing: “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray.”
Now maybe you think that’s weird, but here is something even weirder: I also sing hymns to dogs. And my favorite of those is “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” And when I sing it, I really mean it, because I have long ago concluded that the love of Jesus extends to the whole created order – dogs included.
I remember one time when I sang that hymn to Ella. We were still living in Manhattan and Ella was having a health crisis. And so, I put her in the car and headed down the West Side Highway to the animal hospital in Midtown. The traffic was especially bad that day and we were moving at a maddening crawl. Ella was nervous and uncomfortable, panting in the backseat. I was nervous and uncomfortable, praying in the front seat. And so, as a way to distract her, and myself, I began to sing. At first, it was soft and tentative. But then, it became bold and pleading…
“What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear! What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer! O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear, all because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.”
I like to think that my singing that day comforted Ella. But I know that it comforted me, as I was reminded once again of this foundational truth: that Jesus is our friend.
It might be foundational, but we don’t hear it much after we leave Church School. I suppose we think of it as rather childish – a way for children to connect to Jesus. It is not reflected in most of our hymns and liturgies. Instead, we mostly sing and speak of more “grown up” ideas, like Jesus is our Savior, our Lord, our Sovereign, and our Judge.
And so, he is. But that is not all he is. He also is our friend. And when we forget that, we end up with an exclusively hierarchical relationship to Jesus. He is the one who gives; we are the ones who receive. It is from the top, down. And I sometimes I wonder if we don’t like it that way. Because hierarchy has the unintended consequence of making us passive, and giving us permission to be lazy.
But the idea of friendship flips all of that on its head. Because friendship, at least in part, is about mutuality. And to say that we are the friends of Jesus implies that we have something important to contribute to the relationship. We have something to give to Jesus.
But what?
I want you to think of your best friend. Mine is a man named Jim. We met about 100 years ago when we were both in Middle School. And if you knew us back then, you’d know that God has a marvelous sense of humor to call us both to the ministry.
Sometimes when people meet us, they think we are related to one another. It’s not so much in the way we look, as in the way we act and react each to the other. We know how the other one thinks. We know how the other one feels. We know what the other one needs. This is simply the direct result of sharing life. Without ever trying to, we have become examples of what Aristotle once said - that “a friend is another self.”
And if that is true; if a friend is another self, then that, it seems to me, is what Jesus gets out of this relationship. People start to think of us as family.
The great British intellectual, C.S. Lewis, in his book Mere Christianity, put it like this: “Every Christian is to become a little Christ. The whole purpose of becoming a Christian is simply nothing else.”
Now maybe that sounds like a very tall order indeed. Maybe that sounds like something you didn’t sign up for. Well, take a deep breath and relax. Because being like Jesus is not about some unreachable moral high ground. And it’s certainly not about understanding some heady and esoteric theology. This is about an imitation that is born out of intimacy with your friend.
In this same passage, Jesus also said: “You are my friends if you do what I command you.” (And…) “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”
And that kind of invitation to imitation has always been the Gospel’s bottom line. Remember that when Jesus called his first disciples, all he said to them was: “Follow me.” In other words: do what I do. Love what I love. Walk with me. Talk with me. Abide in me. Be my friend.
Friendship with Jesus is not just aspirational idea. It is an urgent need. Because this world of ours; this nation of ours reeling as it is from cynicism and hatred and division and greed and manipulation, needs a great many more friends of Jesus.
Now, lots of people say that they are friends of Jesus. But talk is cheap. True friendship is in the doing and in the loving. It is in the imitation of Christ. So read the Gospels and you will find that our friend never used religion as a weapon. Our friend didn’t use religion to accumulate power or control. Our friend never used religion to divide and conquer. There was nothing cynical or manipulative or calculating in his relationship with his Father in heaven.
Instead, our friend did this: he shared his bread with the hungry. Our friend touched the untouchable. Our friend transgressed any boundaries that got in the way of mercy. Our friend healed the sick and stood with the oppressed and spoke for the voiceless. He welcomed the strangers and visited the prisoners. And in the end, our friend laid down his life for his friends.
In a few moments, we will sing “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” And we do – a wonderful and faithful and best friend, who will never leave us; never forsake us. But there is another song that the world is waiting for the church to sing. And it’s called “What a Friend We Are to Jesus.” And we are, whenever we do the things that he did; whenever we remind others of him; whenever we are his body in this beautiful but broken world.
First Congregational Church of Cheshire
© the Rev. Dr. James Campbell
John 15:9-17
As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. 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. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.
‘This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. 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. You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.
We have a Boston Terrier named Max. And let’s just say that Max is a ball of energy. He is funny and endearing and demanding and maddening, all at the same time. And Max is an incredible athlete. He can run and jump and leap and fetch until our arms are ready to fall off.
Before Max, we had another Boston Terrier, named Ella. And Ella couldn’t have been more different. She was quiet and polite, obedient and snuggly. We would toss a ball from time to time, but Ella would just look at it like it from another planet. We laugh now and say that Ella probably didn’t give us the best idea of what a Boston Terrier is really like.
We loved Ella. And we love Max. And we both have unique ways of showing that love. Me? Well, sometimes, when no one is looking, I lean close and sing: “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray.”
Now maybe you think that’s weird, but here is something even weirder: I also sing hymns to dogs. And my favorite of those is “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” And when I sing it, I really mean it, because I have long ago concluded that the love of Jesus extends to the whole created order – dogs included.
I remember one time when I sang that hymn to Ella. We were still living in Manhattan and Ella was having a health crisis. And so, I put her in the car and headed down the West Side Highway to the animal hospital in Midtown. The traffic was especially bad that day and we were moving at a maddening crawl. Ella was nervous and uncomfortable, panting in the backseat. I was nervous and uncomfortable, praying in the front seat. And so, as a way to distract her, and myself, I began to sing. At first, it was soft and tentative. But then, it became bold and pleading…
“What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear! What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer! O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear, all because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.”
I like to think that my singing that day comforted Ella. But I know that it comforted me, as I was reminded once again of this foundational truth: that Jesus is our friend.
It might be foundational, but we don’t hear it much after we leave Church School. I suppose we think of it as rather childish – a way for children to connect to Jesus. It is not reflected in most of our hymns and liturgies. Instead, we mostly sing and speak of more “grown up” ideas, like Jesus is our Savior, our Lord, our Sovereign, and our Judge.
And so, he is. But that is not all he is. He also is our friend. And when we forget that, we end up with an exclusively hierarchical relationship to Jesus. He is the one who gives; we are the ones who receive. It is from the top, down. And I sometimes I wonder if we don’t like it that way. Because hierarchy has the unintended consequence of making us passive, and giving us permission to be lazy.
But the idea of friendship flips all of that on its head. Because friendship, at least in part, is about mutuality. And to say that we are the friends of Jesus implies that we have something important to contribute to the relationship. We have something to give to Jesus.
But what?
I want you to think of your best friend. Mine is a man named Jim. We met about 100 years ago when we were both in Middle School. And if you knew us back then, you’d know that God has a marvelous sense of humor to call us both to the ministry.
Sometimes when people meet us, they think we are related to one another. It’s not so much in the way we look, as in the way we act and react each to the other. We know how the other one thinks. We know how the other one feels. We know what the other one needs. This is simply the direct result of sharing life. Without ever trying to, we have become examples of what Aristotle once said - that “a friend is another self.”
And if that is true; if a friend is another self, then that, it seems to me, is what Jesus gets out of this relationship. People start to think of us as family.
The great British intellectual, C.S. Lewis, in his book Mere Christianity, put it like this: “Every Christian is to become a little Christ. The whole purpose of becoming a Christian is simply nothing else.”
Now maybe that sounds like a very tall order indeed. Maybe that sounds like something you didn’t sign up for. Well, take a deep breath and relax. Because being like Jesus is not about some unreachable moral high ground. And it’s certainly not about understanding some heady and esoteric theology. This is about an imitation that is born out of intimacy with your friend.
In this same passage, Jesus also said: “You are my friends if you do what I command you.” (And…) “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”
And that kind of invitation to imitation has always been the Gospel’s bottom line. Remember that when Jesus called his first disciples, all he said to them was: “Follow me.” In other words: do what I do. Love what I love. Walk with me. Talk with me. Abide in me. Be my friend.
Friendship with Jesus is not just aspirational idea. It is an urgent need. Because this world of ours; this nation of ours reeling as it is from cynicism and hatred and division and greed and manipulation, needs a great many more friends of Jesus.
Now, lots of people say that they are friends of Jesus. But talk is cheap. True friendship is in the doing and in the loving. It is in the imitation of Christ. So read the Gospels and you will find that our friend never used religion as a weapon. Our friend didn’t use religion to accumulate power or control. Our friend never used religion to divide and conquer. There was nothing cynical or manipulative or calculating in his relationship with his Father in heaven.
Instead, our friend did this: he shared his bread with the hungry. Our friend touched the untouchable. Our friend transgressed any boundaries that got in the way of mercy. Our friend healed the sick and stood with the oppressed and spoke for the voiceless. He welcomed the strangers and visited the prisoners. And in the end, our friend laid down his life for his friends.
In a few moments, we will sing “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” And we do – a wonderful and faithful and best friend, who will never leave us; never forsake us. But there is another song that the world is waiting for the church to sing. And it’s called “What a Friend We Are to Jesus.” And we are, whenever we do the things that he did; whenever we remind others of him; whenever we are his body in this beautiful but broken world.
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