Finding Faith ... in Jesus's unconditional love

EDITOR'S NOTE: In October 2017 I began a new venture as a synodically authorized minister at Faith Lutheran Church in Wolverton, Minn. The ride over the past 2.5 years has been an amazing journey of learning, growing and a deepening of my theological mind. This sermon took place on Feb. 17, 2019.

I have an admission to make: And that admission is that there are times when I can be a complete judgmental jerk.

If I were to do a self-inventory of my biggest character flaws, this one is near the top. … This should come as no surprise to me, as Shelley has held up a mirror on this issue for me for years now. … But, you know, true self reflection is a sometimes difficult task.

I was reminded of this weakness on Friday during a long bus trip. … Moorhead is considering building a new high school for its growing student population and I sit on the task force that is considering what the design of the building should be.

And on Friday, about 50 us committee members, teachers and school administers hopped a coach bus and drove to Bismarck to tour their new Legacy High School, which is gaining national renown for some of its groundbreaking practices and building design. … So, three hours out there, and three hours back, in a crammed, aging coach bus. … Not the most ideal of travel conditions.

Now, I have another admission to share with you: I am an extreme introvert. That’s right. … This may surprise many of you, as over the years I’ve gotten very good at disguising it. … But dropped into a large group of 50 people, most of whom I don’t know, out of necessity I drop into a protective shell. I recede into myself, as I just don’t have the mental energy to participate in the larger group socialization that others may find fulfilling.

So I was relieved when I walked on the bus Friday morning, and there was an open row of seats near the front. Because of the number of people taking the trip, it was one of the few open rows on the bus. … And I gladly slid in and quickly piled my coat and hat and book in the seat next to me, symbolically showing all that I was perfectly OK to sit alone.

Soon the bus door shut and we headed out. … Whew! … I was so relieved when the air whooshed out of the bus’ brakes and we started moving. … “I dodged that bullet!” I thought. “No one sat with me!”

As we headed west on the interstate, the people all around me happily broke into conversations with their neighbors … and I dug into a new book by Pastor Eugene Peterson that Ross has borrowed.

Over time, many of the conversations around me died down as folks went about their own activities, some grading papers, others watching videos on their phones, and others, like me, pulling out books.

But, unfortunately, directly behind me, the two women seated there didn’t stop talking. They continued and it seemed that they were never going to exhaust their list of topics. … And the longer they talked, the harder it was for me to concentrate on my book. … After all, it wasn’t like it was a breezy book to cruise through.

Now this went on for the entire trip there. By the time we got to the high school in Bismarck, I was ecstatic to get off the bus. … I was so grateful to be away from that constant chatter that hadn’t stop for three hours.

And, trust me, I know this story doesn’t put me in the best of light. You might be thinking, “What a jerk!” And you’re likely right. … But it gets worse.

So, we got off the bus, and we did our tour and four hours later we found ourselves back on the bus to head home. … And, I’m sure that you can already see where this story is going. … Yep, same seating arrangements on the bus ride back to Moorhead.

As soon as the bus doors closed, the same two seatmates behind me were at again. … To be fair, I must state that these women were doing nothing wrong. They weren’t being loud; nor were they being vulgar or inappropriate. ... They were doing absolutely nothing other than being guilty of interrupting my peace.

But I’d had it, and I slowly began to stew the longer the return ride home took. … And at one point I even made a show of trying to block the incessant talk by propping my elbow on the back of my seat and covering up my ear. … Like this … (demonstrate.) … Talk about your passive aggressive Midwestern approach to conflict, right?

Well, ironically, the entire two weeks before the trip I had been mentally working through the gospel lesson from two weeks ago. … I just kept feeling that the Spirit was telling me that I wasn’t done with it. … Now, if you’ll remember back, two weeks ago the gospel lesson was 1 Corinthians 13 … or the love message as some call it.

“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.” … Etc. You’re probably really familiar with it.

And I had been doing my mental exercises these past couple of weeks trying to figure out where the message was in that passage. ... Why did it keep tugging at my brain? … Who was it that needed to hear that message? … Why was the Spirit so adamant to keep me focused on it?

And then, sitting there in that uncomfortable bu seat, tired and grumpy, I had one of those thunderclap moments. ... One of those moments when the fog lifts and God’s message is perfectly clear.

It was an hour into our ride back to Moorhead. … The women’s conversation had not missed a beat from the moment they had settled into their seats. ... And I was beyond irritated.

Trying to block out the chatter, I pressed on in my book, and that’s when I flipped the page to a new chapter. … And the title leapt out at me: “Love Thy Neighbor as Yourself.” … Talk about the love message.

I sat their rebuked, feeling guilty and a little silly about what I’d been feeling toward these two women who’d really done nothing to harm me all day long. They were simply enjoying each other’s company, and had no clue that their conversation was interfering with my peace.

Nor should they have cared. … Frankly, I was just being a jerk, and I think that God was pointing this out to me through the words of Pastor Eugene Peterson.

And so for the next couple of hours, I had some good gut check time to think through something about myself that Shelley had pointed out on many occasions, but I had never taken to heart. … There are times I can just be a judgmental jerk.

I realized that I knew nothing about these women, but from what I gleaned by I suppose eavesdropping was that one was a mom with young children and another child on the way. The other was the mom of at least a couple of high school kids. … And probably, like many women, neither maybe had much time to socialize with other women. And this trip may have just been what each of them needed. Maybe those hours of conversation were filling them up, lifting their spirits, so that they could go back to their normal busy mom lives.

I had not one iota of information about either woman, and yet because I had perceived that they were encroaching on my experience ... ruining my peace ... I began to think ill of them. … I found myself really ashamed of my actions and internal thoughts.

Needless to say, the chapter in Peterson’s book meant a lot more to me in those moments.

But more importantly, the episode got me to thinking about Jesus’ commandment to love our neighbor as our self. … And Paul’s message about love in 1 Corinthians 13. ... No buts, no exceptions. … Unconditional love for everyone. … Just as he loves each and every one of us.

There, on that bus ride, I wrestled with these issues, recriminating myself for being selfish, and struggling with this thought: … Just how is it possible for us to live out this very simple commandment with people such as our enemies, or those who hurt us or those who are different than us and therefore frighten us … how do we do this, how do we love them unconditionally … when we can’t even simply love two women sitting behind us and having a perfectly harmless conversation on a bus.

And I am being completely serious. … As I struggle with the commandment to love thy neighbor, the neighbor sitting behind me in a bus …. how will I ever be strong enough to love during even more challenging times when I am called upon to love my neighbor.

Times when it may be someone of a different faith. Someone of a different culture … or race … or color. The times when that other inexplicably frightens me.

In his book, Pastor Eugene Peterson effectively reminds us, there are no buts. … Jesus reminds us that there are no conditions. … There’s no get-out-of-jail-free card when it comes to loving the other. ... You get no passes because a person has been a jerk to you, or hurt you, or maybe just forces you out of your comfort zone.

Just like I don’t get a free pass for being a jerk on that bus on Friday. … And even though my crime wasn’t that great. After all, I never even let a negative word slip from my mouth, it didn’t matter. … I was a jerk, and I don’t get a pass for that.

But, luckily for me, and for you, the other important lesson that Pastor Peterson reminded me of in his sermon in the book, was this: Despite the times we are judgemental jerks … the times we make presuppositions about people we don’t know … the times we fear someone we’ve never met just because they are different from us.

Despite all of the times that we fail to love our neighbor … in all of those times, Jesus forgives us in each and everyone of those instances. ... Because he does truly love us unconditionally, and even in our worst moments -- like when we are fuming at to women sitting behind us for talking -- even, then Jesus loves even us unconditionally.

And that is the Good News for me this Sunday. … Amen.