Love, American style
Commentary
Do you remember the 1970s television show Love, American Style? Each episode of the program consisted of two or perhaps three relatively short, comic sketches, almost always about a young man and woman who meet and fall in love. Occasionally one of the pieces would be about a couple that had already been together for a while confronted with some challenge to their relationship. Although I could be wrong in my recollection, I don't remember many of the stories being about married couples or even folks middle-aged or older. What I am certain of is that even three decades ago, the stories related in these sketches seemed silly (and when I came across the reruns on a hotel room television set once this last year, they seemed downright inane!).
I suppose that one should expect silliness from what was, after all, a comedy and not a serious sociological analysis of the nature and place of love in American culture. But as with all expressions of pop culture, the program's very success offered some indication that it had touched on a genuine insight into the society at that time. The almost total absence of even those who were middle-aged was a clear reflection of the youth-obsession in our culture from that time even until now. Yet what I want to draw our attention to here is how easy "love, American style," was in that series. Young couples met almost in passing, and instantly fell in love with one another. Sure, there could be barriers that might complicate their desire to be with one another, but always these were comic in nature and eventually overcome so that there never failed to be a happy ending. And "love" was almost always about infatuation and physical attraction.
Love, American Style in the 1970s and even today is thought of almost exclusively in terms of romance. Like most things modern-"American style," it is intended to be quick, easy, and about satisfying our desires. Love, biblical style, however, is seldom any of those things. In 1 John, when the author begins to fill out what it means to say, "God is love," he explains God's actions in loving us as sending the "Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins" (4:10). Love as sacrifice is never quick, easy, or about satisfying our desires.
Acts 8:26-40
Philip was one of the seven "Hellenists" (from Jewish families rooted in the Diaspora that typically spoke Greek rather than the Aramaic characteristic of Jews living in Roman Palestine) who had been chosen to supervise the economic distribution among widows in the Christian community (Acts 6:1-7). It is interesting to note, however, that only activities of Philip and Stephen are reported from this group, and nothing is said about their discharging this assigned task. In both instances they engage in the apostolic tasks associated with "the word of God" (for Stephen, 6:8--7:60; for Philip, 8:4-40).
In the case of Philip, his preaching ministry begins when the Christian community is scattered from Jerusalem in the wake of Stephen's martyrdom (8:4-5). It is commonly noted that his work in "the city of Samaria" (a problematic reference since there was no city by that name in the first century; attempts to identify the city with Shechem fail because it was destroyed completely c. 107 B.C., so more likely is Sebaste that was restored in the time of Herod near the site of the ancient Omride city of Samaria) marks a fulfillment of Jesus' oracle just prior to his ascension that the Gospel must be preached "in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth" (1:8). The extension of the Christian community to Samaritans marked the crossing of both a geographic and an ethnic line from what had been its almost exclusively Jewish ethnic identity.
Philip's connection to Jesus' oracle does not end with Samaria, however. In this lectionary reading we encounter his ministry to "a court official of Candace, queen of the Ethiopians" (Acts 8:27). Once again, the lines crossed are both geographical and ethnic/cultural. Ethiopia was described as "the ends of the earth" by ancient historians and geographers (Herodotus, History 3.17-20; Strabo, Geography 17.2.1-3), and not only was this official ethnically African but as a eunuch he could not even have been a formal proselyte to Judaism (Deuteronomy 23:1; but cf. Isaiah 56:3-5 and note that the passage the eunuch is said to be considering is Isaiah 53:7-8).
That such a court official "had come to Jerusalem to worship" (Acts 8:27c) probably reflects the tradition common by the first century and later that the Queen of Sheba who had visited Solomon (1 Kings 10:1-13) was from Ethiopia (the queen of both Ethiopia and Egypt according to Josephus, Antiquities 8.6.5-6). While most modern scholars associate Sheba with ancient Saba on the southwest tip of the Arabian peninsula, it is the associations current in the first century that control the interpretation of Acts. According to those traditions, the Queen of Sheba had accepted the religion of Solomon and established its ongoing observance in Ethiopia. Moreover, there is a subtle parallel between the Queen's visit to Jerusalem to ask "hard questions" of Solomon (1 Kings 10:1) and the eunuch's apparent inability to find answers to his questions about the prophet Isaiah while in Jerusalem (cf. Acts 8:31, 34).
Interestingly, his particular question regarding Isaiah is one that continues to consternate scholars to the present day: Is the figure portrayed in the "Servant Songs" to be identified with the prophet "himself or ... someone else?" In keeping with the widespread early Christian interpretation of this passage, Philip identifies the Isaianic "Suffering Servant" with Jesus and uses the passage as a starting point for relating the Gospel to him. The eunuch's acceptance of both Philip's interpretation and the Gospel itself is clear from his request to be baptized.
Philip had been sent to meet the Ethiopian by the Spirit (initially in the guise of an "angel of the Lord"), and once the eunuch's conversion is complete through baptism "the Spirit ... snatched Philip away" (8:39) to the Mediterranean coast along which Philip proceeded north to Caesarea. According to Acts, Philip remained there for a number of years, raising his family and cultivating the same openness to the leading of the Spirit in his daughters (21:8-9).
1 John 4:7-21
One of the great ironies in the New Testament scriptures is that the Johannine community with its highly sectarian, "us" vs. "the world" outlook nevertheless expresses the most profound insight into and most demanding ethic based upon divine love. Both the community's extreme suspicion of those who are not part of them and their insistence that love for others is the defining characteristic of their community are presented side by side in 1 John 4. In the section preceding the lectionary reading (vv. 1-6), the elder warns the "beloved" readers about "false prophets" who deny "that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh." The test of whether someone has the "spirit of truth" and thus "knows God" or conversely has the "spirit of error" and "is not from God" is whether that person "listens to us," that is, accepts the elder's teaching on this point.
Within the lectionary passage a different standard of discernment than orthodoxy is applied. Rather than what one "confesses" or believes, the test of whether one "is born of God and knows God" is whether that one loves others, because "God is love." Not having love for others is thereby proof that neither one's actions nor one's very self originates with God.
But what is the nature of this love? It is proactive and self-giving. It is proactive in that God did not offer love to us in response to love that we had given to God; rather, God took the initiative by sending the Divine's "only Son into the world so that we might live through him." It is self-giving because the purpose of sending the Son into the world was "to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins."
One might expect that the proper response to such divine love would be for us to love God in return. Yet the elder rather asserts that our response to God's love for us is for us "to love one another." The reason for this somewhat surprising assertion is apparently that to assert that one loves God is too easy. To say that we love a God that no one has ever seen is in some ways beyond demonstration or proof. On the other hand, whether we truly act with love -- proactive and self-giving love like God's -- toward one another is evident both to ourselves and to them. God's love is "perfected in us," reaches its genuine maturity, only when we love in the way that God loves rather than only loving God in return (which would be neither proactive nor self-giving since God has already loved us and given us all things). Indeed, the elder asserts that if you cannot love those who you can see, then you cannot love the unseen God (v. 20).
Nor are occasional acts of love sufficient. What is called for is that we "abide in" God just as God abides in us by the Spirit (v. 13). It is at this point that the elder ties together his concern for orthodoxy and his understanding of divine love. Because we have experienced the divine "Son as the Savior of the world," the demonstration of God's proactive and self-giving love, and we continue in that experience, we are able to "confess that Jesus is the Son of God" (vv. 14-15). Moreover, the experience of such love removes any fear of judgment because we know that God has already redeemed us (vv. 17-19).
What remains unclear is exactly how the elder resolves the tension between the sectarianism of the community and this divine command to love. The elder consistently refers to those who are to receive love as either "a brother or sister" (vv. 20-21) or "one another" (vv. 7, 11, 12), in both instances presumably those within the Johannine community. Is there, then, no obligation to love those who do not share their confession and so exhibit the "spirit of the Antichrist" (v. 3)? Simply put, the elder never resolves this tension. What seems likely theologically if not purely exegetically is that the command to love others as God has loved us must be extended even to those outside the community. Such loving acts are one means by which we come to experience God's love because we have no other love to share than the love God has given, "for God is love."
John 15:1-8
The Johannine theme of "abiding" that we encountered in the epistle reading lies at the very heart of this Sunday's gospel lesson. Since the readings in the Easter cycle are not continuous, it is surprising that the lectionary committee chose to end the gospel reading at verse 8 rather than continuing it on to the end of the paragraph at verse 11. Those additional verses would also have connected with the emphasis on divine love from the epistle. Thus, it is probably best to add the additional three verses to the morning's readings and not to follow the lectionary too slavishly.
This passage is part of the so-called "Farewell Discourse" of John's Gospel, as it is presently constituted. Many modern scholars have suggested that because of the concluding remarks in 14:30-31 ("I will no longer talk much with you ... Rise, let us be on our way") that the portion of the discourse now found in chapters 15-17 is a later expansion on themes of the original discourse in chapters 13-14. Other scholars point to other abrupt transitions (Gail O'Day [New Interpreter's Bible, 9:756] suggests already in the Farewell Discourse the transition from 13:38 to 14:1, and earlier from 9:41 to 10:1) to argue against the view that the Fourth Gospel may have gone through multiple editions. Yet the narrative flow between 14:31 and 18:1 is much more akin to that found between 7:52 and 8:12, where there is near universal agreement that the "Pericope of the Adulteress" has been inserted into the Gospel. Unlike that famous example, however, there is strong evidence (linguistic, theological, etc.) to suggest that this expansion of the Farewell Discourse did originate within the Johannine school.
The paragraph opens with the final example of an "I am" statement with predicate (here, "I am the true vine," 15:1) in this Gospel. Only here, however, is such a metaphor used in conjunction with metaphorical identifications of others. God is identified as the "vinegrower" (v. 1b; the Greek word is actually much broader in connotation, referring to any agricultural worker whether an owner or hired hand), and the disciples as the "branches" (v. 5a). It is the vinegrower's task to maximize the production of the vine, and this is accomplished by removing those branches that do not produce fruit. However, this potential judgment (see especially v. 6) should not be a concern to the disciples who have already "pruned"/"cleansed" (the same Greek word, kathairo) through the process of Jesus' ministry (v. 3).
What remains for the disciples is to "abide" in their relationship with Christ, a relationship every bit as mutual as that between a vine and its branches ("Abide in me as I abide in you," v. 4a). As in the epistle text, the meaning of "abide" is defined by the concepts of continuing in God's love and keeping Christ's commands (v. 10). As the following paragraph of the discourse makes clear, these concepts are in actuality only two sides of the same coin: "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you" (v. 12). Also as in the epistle, this love is both proactive (v. 16) and self-giving/sacrificial (v. 13).
One is inclined to take the imagery of "bearing much fruit" (vv. 2b, 5b) as indicative of a command to share God's love with all others in the hopes that they too will produce such fruit and so not be "removed." But again as in the epistle reading, the sectarianism of the Johannine community makes such an interpretation difficult to sustain. Here it is clear that it is only the vine, Christ himself, who can sustain the branches so that they produce fruit (v. 4b). Additionally, later portions of this discourse will draw a sharp distinction between the disciples and "the world" that hates and rejects Christ and them (15:18-25), and Jesus will even refuse to pray "on behalf of the world" (17:9b). Yet the purpose for the abiding relationship between God, Christ, and the disciples is "so that the world may believe" that God has sent Jesus (17:21). The irony and tension noted in the epistle is just as evident in the Fourth Gospel.
Application
C. Clifton Black has observed, "The interpreter of 1 John 4:7-21 is faced with a challenge: How does one approach a subject so shopworn and trivialized as love? Surely not by tacking our private enthusiasms onto the text, but by following its lead. The elder's view of love is surprisingly fresh and altogether different from those popularized by Hollywood, Tin Pan Alley or Madison Avenue" (New Interpreter's Bible, 12:432). Rather than "tacking our private enthusiasms onto the text" then, perhaps we should draw explicit contrasts between "Love, American style" and the "Love, God's style" that defined the Johannine community.
"Love, American style," is quick. If it is not truly love at first sight, then it is love recognized in a flash of insight between two long-time friends or acquaintances. If it is love in a long-standing relationship, then any hardships encountered in its path are either quickly resolved or the relationship diverges along two separate paths. "Love, God's style" is nurturing with an eye toward the long view. It is about carefully pruning and cleansing our lives so that they produce even more fruit of our relationship with God. It is not about following divergent paths in search of something new, but about "abiding" in one another.
"Love, American style" is easy. Oh, we may have to work at capturing someone's attention, or even have to overcome obstacles deliberately or unintentional placed in the path that will bring us together. But always there can be a light and humorous side to these things, if only we can view them from the proper angles. After all, if we had to work hard at love then it couldn't be quick, now could it? "Love, God's style" is full of the messiness of life, filled with ironies and tensions. It demands of us that we love others as we have ourselves been loved, even as it admits that others hate us. It hints at the possibility that perhaps love could be easier if we only need love others like ourselves, but yet at the same time calls us to see love as the transforming power that may yet draw even those who hate us into relationship with God and with ourselves.
"Love, American style" is about satisfying our desires. To take more contemporary cultural examples, it is about "wanting to marry a millionaire," about choosing from among more than a dozen physically attractive bachelors or bachelorettes, all of whom have agreed to accept us as a condition of playing the game. "Love, God's style" is about sacrifice, about acting to meet the needs of others rather than our own desires. It comes with no guarantees that our love will be requited. It deals with the sometime harsh realities of who others truly are rather than the romanticized notions of who we might want them to be.
An Alternative Application
Acts 8:26-40.
What geographical, racial, ethnic, cultural barriers might the Spirit be calling us to cross in our day? It has often been noted that the hour of Sunday morning worship is one of the most segregated moments in modern American life. Yet even as we endeavor to reach out to those who are different than ourselves, we often do so in ways that all but guarantee continued segregation. We form immigrant group outreaches, but too often we answer a few of their questions about being a church in this society and then, like Philip and the eunuch, go our separate and opposite directions. Might it be that the Spirit is leading us to a more engaged, multicultural experience of the gospel? Could it be that we need to acknowledge that not only do we have something important to teach those who are foreign to us, but also that they may have important things to teach us as well? And if we are to have genuine unity within such multicultural communities, then we must remember that the prophet was not speaking about himself or even about us, but rather about Christ.
The Political Pulpit
Acts 8:26-40
Many African-Americans still perceive themselves to be victimized by racism. A recent Gallup 2001 Social Audit Poll confirms this. Almost 60 percent of the African-American population believe this, according to a 2001 poll. And 66 percent of American blacks believe that race relations will always be a problem (up from only 26 percent in 1963). Of course the Trent Lott affair at the end of 2002, in which the former Republican Leader of the Senate lamented the defeat of Strom Thurmond and his segregationist platform in the 1948 Presidential election suggests that racism "ain't dead" at the highest levels of political power. Another troublesome vestige of racism seems suggested by the failure of the last Congress to pass an End Racial Profiling Act. Will it languish though another term?
Nevertheless, there remains a large contingent of whites who refuse to accept the belief that racism remains (seven in 10 according to the previously cited Gallup poll). After all, Integration and Affirmative Action remain in place (sort of). But on whose grounds?
Working as I do in an historic African-American educational institution, though of Norwegian background myself, I have gained some "insider's" information on this matter. One way in which racism is still experienced by African-Americans in the post-integration era is by the devaluation of black contributions. Integration has largely been on white terms.
The church has fallen prey to these dynamics. Integrated congregations and integrated worship experiences have too often failed to use gospels or spirituals in hymnody. Hand-clapping and "Amens" are implicitly discouraged in these settings. And very little is said about African contributions to Christianity. After all, most white folks think, we brought Christianity to Africa and to the American slaves.
The first lesson puts this range of attitudes to rest. Philip converts an Ethiopian to Christian faith, a black man who already knew of the Hebrew faith! This Ethiopian was a man of high position, holding an office in the regime of Candace, Queen of Ethiopia. Some historians believe he may have influenced the royal house of Ethiopia to adopt Christianity. In any case, Christianity has been the religion of the state in Ethiopia since the fifth century. This is just one of a number of usually overlooked examples of the black presence in the Bible. We should never forget that Moses was an African by birth and was raised as African royalty, that Jesus spent time in Africa (Matthew 2:13-23), and that the Queen of Sheba who was likely black was intimate with Solomon (1 Kings 10:13). The Bible even teaches that "black is beautiful" (Song of Solomon 1:5). And the latest genetic biology suggests that there was an Adam and Eve from whom we are all descended, and that they were black (Allan Wilson and Rebecca Cann, "The Recent African Genesis of Humans," Scientific American [April, 1992]: 69-71).
Even the Trinity doctrine owes much to Africa. A significant number of the bishops who attended the Council of Nicea and later councils that ratified the doctrine of the Trinity were African. There is evidence that a key leader of this group, the PR man in the process of the church's acceptance of the Trinity was a black man, named Athanasius (who inspired The Athanasian Creed).
We need to get the word out about these African dimensions of our faith. Of themselves, they will not end racism in America or in other nations. But they can contribute to sensitizing Christians and the church to take up the task for which we are called -- to be agents of justice and reconciliation in the struggles against racism.
If this Sunday is not opportune for this theme, the first lesson for June 8 (Pentecost Sunday), with its stress on the unity experienced by the first Christians on the initial day of Pentecost (Acts 2:1-12), is a great occasion for condemning racism. However, we need reminders that there is no true unity if all the people are not equal partners, with all the heritages affirmed.
I suppose that one should expect silliness from what was, after all, a comedy and not a serious sociological analysis of the nature and place of love in American culture. But as with all expressions of pop culture, the program's very success offered some indication that it had touched on a genuine insight into the society at that time. The almost total absence of even those who were middle-aged was a clear reflection of the youth-obsession in our culture from that time even until now. Yet what I want to draw our attention to here is how easy "love, American style," was in that series. Young couples met almost in passing, and instantly fell in love with one another. Sure, there could be barriers that might complicate their desire to be with one another, but always these were comic in nature and eventually overcome so that there never failed to be a happy ending. And "love" was almost always about infatuation and physical attraction.
Love, American Style in the 1970s and even today is thought of almost exclusively in terms of romance. Like most things modern-"American style," it is intended to be quick, easy, and about satisfying our desires. Love, biblical style, however, is seldom any of those things. In 1 John, when the author begins to fill out what it means to say, "God is love," he explains God's actions in loving us as sending the "Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins" (4:10). Love as sacrifice is never quick, easy, or about satisfying our desires.
Acts 8:26-40
Philip was one of the seven "Hellenists" (from Jewish families rooted in the Diaspora that typically spoke Greek rather than the Aramaic characteristic of Jews living in Roman Palestine) who had been chosen to supervise the economic distribution among widows in the Christian community (Acts 6:1-7). It is interesting to note, however, that only activities of Philip and Stephen are reported from this group, and nothing is said about their discharging this assigned task. In both instances they engage in the apostolic tasks associated with "the word of God" (for Stephen, 6:8--7:60; for Philip, 8:4-40).
In the case of Philip, his preaching ministry begins when the Christian community is scattered from Jerusalem in the wake of Stephen's martyrdom (8:4-5). It is commonly noted that his work in "the city of Samaria" (a problematic reference since there was no city by that name in the first century; attempts to identify the city with Shechem fail because it was destroyed completely c. 107 B.C., so more likely is Sebaste that was restored in the time of Herod near the site of the ancient Omride city of Samaria) marks a fulfillment of Jesus' oracle just prior to his ascension that the Gospel must be preached "in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth" (1:8). The extension of the Christian community to Samaritans marked the crossing of both a geographic and an ethnic line from what had been its almost exclusively Jewish ethnic identity.
Philip's connection to Jesus' oracle does not end with Samaria, however. In this lectionary reading we encounter his ministry to "a court official of Candace, queen of the Ethiopians" (Acts 8:27). Once again, the lines crossed are both geographical and ethnic/cultural. Ethiopia was described as "the ends of the earth" by ancient historians and geographers (Herodotus, History 3.17-20; Strabo, Geography 17.2.1-3), and not only was this official ethnically African but as a eunuch he could not even have been a formal proselyte to Judaism (Deuteronomy 23:1; but cf. Isaiah 56:3-5 and note that the passage the eunuch is said to be considering is Isaiah 53:7-8).
That such a court official "had come to Jerusalem to worship" (Acts 8:27c) probably reflects the tradition common by the first century and later that the Queen of Sheba who had visited Solomon (1 Kings 10:1-13) was from Ethiopia (the queen of both Ethiopia and Egypt according to Josephus, Antiquities 8.6.5-6). While most modern scholars associate Sheba with ancient Saba on the southwest tip of the Arabian peninsula, it is the associations current in the first century that control the interpretation of Acts. According to those traditions, the Queen of Sheba had accepted the religion of Solomon and established its ongoing observance in Ethiopia. Moreover, there is a subtle parallel between the Queen's visit to Jerusalem to ask "hard questions" of Solomon (1 Kings 10:1) and the eunuch's apparent inability to find answers to his questions about the prophet Isaiah while in Jerusalem (cf. Acts 8:31, 34).
Interestingly, his particular question regarding Isaiah is one that continues to consternate scholars to the present day: Is the figure portrayed in the "Servant Songs" to be identified with the prophet "himself or ... someone else?" In keeping with the widespread early Christian interpretation of this passage, Philip identifies the Isaianic "Suffering Servant" with Jesus and uses the passage as a starting point for relating the Gospel to him. The eunuch's acceptance of both Philip's interpretation and the Gospel itself is clear from his request to be baptized.
Philip had been sent to meet the Ethiopian by the Spirit (initially in the guise of an "angel of the Lord"), and once the eunuch's conversion is complete through baptism "the Spirit ... snatched Philip away" (8:39) to the Mediterranean coast along which Philip proceeded north to Caesarea. According to Acts, Philip remained there for a number of years, raising his family and cultivating the same openness to the leading of the Spirit in his daughters (21:8-9).
1 John 4:7-21
One of the great ironies in the New Testament scriptures is that the Johannine community with its highly sectarian, "us" vs. "the world" outlook nevertheless expresses the most profound insight into and most demanding ethic based upon divine love. Both the community's extreme suspicion of those who are not part of them and their insistence that love for others is the defining characteristic of their community are presented side by side in 1 John 4. In the section preceding the lectionary reading (vv. 1-6), the elder warns the "beloved" readers about "false prophets" who deny "that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh." The test of whether someone has the "spirit of truth" and thus "knows God" or conversely has the "spirit of error" and "is not from God" is whether that person "listens to us," that is, accepts the elder's teaching on this point.
Within the lectionary passage a different standard of discernment than orthodoxy is applied. Rather than what one "confesses" or believes, the test of whether one "is born of God and knows God" is whether that one loves others, because "God is love." Not having love for others is thereby proof that neither one's actions nor one's very self originates with God.
But what is the nature of this love? It is proactive and self-giving. It is proactive in that God did not offer love to us in response to love that we had given to God; rather, God took the initiative by sending the Divine's "only Son into the world so that we might live through him." It is self-giving because the purpose of sending the Son into the world was "to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins."
One might expect that the proper response to such divine love would be for us to love God in return. Yet the elder rather asserts that our response to God's love for us is for us "to love one another." The reason for this somewhat surprising assertion is apparently that to assert that one loves God is too easy. To say that we love a God that no one has ever seen is in some ways beyond demonstration or proof. On the other hand, whether we truly act with love -- proactive and self-giving love like God's -- toward one another is evident both to ourselves and to them. God's love is "perfected in us," reaches its genuine maturity, only when we love in the way that God loves rather than only loving God in return (which would be neither proactive nor self-giving since God has already loved us and given us all things). Indeed, the elder asserts that if you cannot love those who you can see, then you cannot love the unseen God (v. 20).
Nor are occasional acts of love sufficient. What is called for is that we "abide in" God just as God abides in us by the Spirit (v. 13). It is at this point that the elder ties together his concern for orthodoxy and his understanding of divine love. Because we have experienced the divine "Son as the Savior of the world," the demonstration of God's proactive and self-giving love, and we continue in that experience, we are able to "confess that Jesus is the Son of God" (vv. 14-15). Moreover, the experience of such love removes any fear of judgment because we know that God has already redeemed us (vv. 17-19).
What remains unclear is exactly how the elder resolves the tension between the sectarianism of the community and this divine command to love. The elder consistently refers to those who are to receive love as either "a brother or sister" (vv. 20-21) or "one another" (vv. 7, 11, 12), in both instances presumably those within the Johannine community. Is there, then, no obligation to love those who do not share their confession and so exhibit the "spirit of the Antichrist" (v. 3)? Simply put, the elder never resolves this tension. What seems likely theologically if not purely exegetically is that the command to love others as God has loved us must be extended even to those outside the community. Such loving acts are one means by which we come to experience God's love because we have no other love to share than the love God has given, "for God is love."
John 15:1-8
The Johannine theme of "abiding" that we encountered in the epistle reading lies at the very heart of this Sunday's gospel lesson. Since the readings in the Easter cycle are not continuous, it is surprising that the lectionary committee chose to end the gospel reading at verse 8 rather than continuing it on to the end of the paragraph at verse 11. Those additional verses would also have connected with the emphasis on divine love from the epistle. Thus, it is probably best to add the additional three verses to the morning's readings and not to follow the lectionary too slavishly.
This passage is part of the so-called "Farewell Discourse" of John's Gospel, as it is presently constituted. Many modern scholars have suggested that because of the concluding remarks in 14:30-31 ("I will no longer talk much with you ... Rise, let us be on our way") that the portion of the discourse now found in chapters 15-17 is a later expansion on themes of the original discourse in chapters 13-14. Other scholars point to other abrupt transitions (Gail O'Day [New Interpreter's Bible, 9:756] suggests already in the Farewell Discourse the transition from 13:38 to 14:1, and earlier from 9:41 to 10:1) to argue against the view that the Fourth Gospel may have gone through multiple editions. Yet the narrative flow between 14:31 and 18:1 is much more akin to that found between 7:52 and 8:12, where there is near universal agreement that the "Pericope of the Adulteress" has been inserted into the Gospel. Unlike that famous example, however, there is strong evidence (linguistic, theological, etc.) to suggest that this expansion of the Farewell Discourse did originate within the Johannine school.
The paragraph opens with the final example of an "I am" statement with predicate (here, "I am the true vine," 15:1) in this Gospel. Only here, however, is such a metaphor used in conjunction with metaphorical identifications of others. God is identified as the "vinegrower" (v. 1b; the Greek word is actually much broader in connotation, referring to any agricultural worker whether an owner or hired hand), and the disciples as the "branches" (v. 5a). It is the vinegrower's task to maximize the production of the vine, and this is accomplished by removing those branches that do not produce fruit. However, this potential judgment (see especially v. 6) should not be a concern to the disciples who have already "pruned"/"cleansed" (the same Greek word, kathairo) through the process of Jesus' ministry (v. 3).
What remains for the disciples is to "abide" in their relationship with Christ, a relationship every bit as mutual as that between a vine and its branches ("Abide in me as I abide in you," v. 4a). As in the epistle text, the meaning of "abide" is defined by the concepts of continuing in God's love and keeping Christ's commands (v. 10). As the following paragraph of the discourse makes clear, these concepts are in actuality only two sides of the same coin: "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you" (v. 12). Also as in the epistle, this love is both proactive (v. 16) and self-giving/sacrificial (v. 13).
One is inclined to take the imagery of "bearing much fruit" (vv. 2b, 5b) as indicative of a command to share God's love with all others in the hopes that they too will produce such fruit and so not be "removed." But again as in the epistle reading, the sectarianism of the Johannine community makes such an interpretation difficult to sustain. Here it is clear that it is only the vine, Christ himself, who can sustain the branches so that they produce fruit (v. 4b). Additionally, later portions of this discourse will draw a sharp distinction between the disciples and "the world" that hates and rejects Christ and them (15:18-25), and Jesus will even refuse to pray "on behalf of the world" (17:9b). Yet the purpose for the abiding relationship between God, Christ, and the disciples is "so that the world may believe" that God has sent Jesus (17:21). The irony and tension noted in the epistle is just as evident in the Fourth Gospel.
Application
C. Clifton Black has observed, "The interpreter of 1 John 4:7-21 is faced with a challenge: How does one approach a subject so shopworn and trivialized as love? Surely not by tacking our private enthusiasms onto the text, but by following its lead. The elder's view of love is surprisingly fresh and altogether different from those popularized by Hollywood, Tin Pan Alley or Madison Avenue" (New Interpreter's Bible, 12:432). Rather than "tacking our private enthusiasms onto the text" then, perhaps we should draw explicit contrasts between "Love, American style" and the "Love, God's style" that defined the Johannine community.
"Love, American style," is quick. If it is not truly love at first sight, then it is love recognized in a flash of insight between two long-time friends or acquaintances. If it is love in a long-standing relationship, then any hardships encountered in its path are either quickly resolved or the relationship diverges along two separate paths. "Love, God's style" is nurturing with an eye toward the long view. It is about carefully pruning and cleansing our lives so that they produce even more fruit of our relationship with God. It is not about following divergent paths in search of something new, but about "abiding" in one another.
"Love, American style" is easy. Oh, we may have to work at capturing someone's attention, or even have to overcome obstacles deliberately or unintentional placed in the path that will bring us together. But always there can be a light and humorous side to these things, if only we can view them from the proper angles. After all, if we had to work hard at love then it couldn't be quick, now could it? "Love, God's style" is full of the messiness of life, filled with ironies and tensions. It demands of us that we love others as we have ourselves been loved, even as it admits that others hate us. It hints at the possibility that perhaps love could be easier if we only need love others like ourselves, but yet at the same time calls us to see love as the transforming power that may yet draw even those who hate us into relationship with God and with ourselves.
"Love, American style" is about satisfying our desires. To take more contemporary cultural examples, it is about "wanting to marry a millionaire," about choosing from among more than a dozen physically attractive bachelors or bachelorettes, all of whom have agreed to accept us as a condition of playing the game. "Love, God's style" is about sacrifice, about acting to meet the needs of others rather than our own desires. It comes with no guarantees that our love will be requited. It deals with the sometime harsh realities of who others truly are rather than the romanticized notions of who we might want them to be.
An Alternative Application
Acts 8:26-40.
What geographical, racial, ethnic, cultural barriers might the Spirit be calling us to cross in our day? It has often been noted that the hour of Sunday morning worship is one of the most segregated moments in modern American life. Yet even as we endeavor to reach out to those who are different than ourselves, we often do so in ways that all but guarantee continued segregation. We form immigrant group outreaches, but too often we answer a few of their questions about being a church in this society and then, like Philip and the eunuch, go our separate and opposite directions. Might it be that the Spirit is leading us to a more engaged, multicultural experience of the gospel? Could it be that we need to acknowledge that not only do we have something important to teach those who are foreign to us, but also that they may have important things to teach us as well? And if we are to have genuine unity within such multicultural communities, then we must remember that the prophet was not speaking about himself or even about us, but rather about Christ.
The Political Pulpit
Acts 8:26-40
Many African-Americans still perceive themselves to be victimized by racism. A recent Gallup 2001 Social Audit Poll confirms this. Almost 60 percent of the African-American population believe this, according to a 2001 poll. And 66 percent of American blacks believe that race relations will always be a problem (up from only 26 percent in 1963). Of course the Trent Lott affair at the end of 2002, in which the former Republican Leader of the Senate lamented the defeat of Strom Thurmond and his segregationist platform in the 1948 Presidential election suggests that racism "ain't dead" at the highest levels of political power. Another troublesome vestige of racism seems suggested by the failure of the last Congress to pass an End Racial Profiling Act. Will it languish though another term?
Nevertheless, there remains a large contingent of whites who refuse to accept the belief that racism remains (seven in 10 according to the previously cited Gallup poll). After all, Integration and Affirmative Action remain in place (sort of). But on whose grounds?
Working as I do in an historic African-American educational institution, though of Norwegian background myself, I have gained some "insider's" information on this matter. One way in which racism is still experienced by African-Americans in the post-integration era is by the devaluation of black contributions. Integration has largely been on white terms.
The church has fallen prey to these dynamics. Integrated congregations and integrated worship experiences have too often failed to use gospels or spirituals in hymnody. Hand-clapping and "Amens" are implicitly discouraged in these settings. And very little is said about African contributions to Christianity. After all, most white folks think, we brought Christianity to Africa and to the American slaves.
The first lesson puts this range of attitudes to rest. Philip converts an Ethiopian to Christian faith, a black man who already knew of the Hebrew faith! This Ethiopian was a man of high position, holding an office in the regime of Candace, Queen of Ethiopia. Some historians believe he may have influenced the royal house of Ethiopia to adopt Christianity. In any case, Christianity has been the religion of the state in Ethiopia since the fifth century. This is just one of a number of usually overlooked examples of the black presence in the Bible. We should never forget that Moses was an African by birth and was raised as African royalty, that Jesus spent time in Africa (Matthew 2:13-23), and that the Queen of Sheba who was likely black was intimate with Solomon (1 Kings 10:13). The Bible even teaches that "black is beautiful" (Song of Solomon 1:5). And the latest genetic biology suggests that there was an Adam and Eve from whom we are all descended, and that they were black (Allan Wilson and Rebecca Cann, "The Recent African Genesis of Humans," Scientific American [April, 1992]: 69-71).
Even the Trinity doctrine owes much to Africa. A significant number of the bishops who attended the Council of Nicea and later councils that ratified the doctrine of the Trinity were African. There is evidence that a key leader of this group, the PR man in the process of the church's acceptance of the Trinity was a black man, named Athanasius (who inspired The Athanasian Creed).
We need to get the word out about these African dimensions of our faith. Of themselves, they will not end racism in America or in other nations. But they can contribute to sensitizing Christians and the church to take up the task for which we are called -- to be agents of justice and reconciliation in the struggles against racism.
If this Sunday is not opportune for this theme, the first lesson for June 8 (Pentecost Sunday), with its stress on the unity experienced by the first Christians on the initial day of Pentecost (Acts 2:1-12), is a great occasion for condemning racism. However, we need reminders that there is no true unity if all the people are not equal partners, with all the heritages affirmed.
