Great Commandment

1 Thessalonians 2: 1-8; Matthew 22: 34-46

FPC; 10-26-08

          One day some Pharisees come to Jesus, not to be enlightened or edified, but to entrap and embarrass him.  They come, not as friends, but as foes.  “Which commandment is the greatest?” they ask. 

          Even the most vindictive questioner among them could not have denied that Jesus gives an acceptable response.  In fact, Jesus’ response is orthodoxy at its best, straight from the Shema, the text devout Jews memorize, write and place in conspicuous places throughout their homes: “Hear, O Israel, the Lord your God is one.  You shall love your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” 

          With the repetition of the word “all”, Jesus is underscoring the importance of loving God with one’s entire being, with every ounce of fiber and energy and intelligence, with every breath and every heartbeat.  One commentator has said: “appropriate love for God is to be completely encompassing; it cannot be parceled out in limited portions.”

          Presbyterian minister Joanna Adams tells of a conversation she once had with a young family man who has done well in his vocation but has begun to wonder what his life is about.  “You know, I work all the time and I like what I do, but I can’t figure out where I am going anymore.  You can’t live for your work and for the money you earn, can you?”  He asked.

          Joanna told that young man that it sounded as if he had a very ancient problem.  “Really?” he said.  “Yes,” she answered.  “It is a problem that many of us have, me included.  The problem is called idolatry.  The problem is making yourself the most important thing in your life, more important to you than God, more important than other people.”  She said, “There’s no other word for it, I wish there were, but it is idolatry, pure and simple.”[1]

          Jesus offers a prescription for idolatry.  It is the great command: You shall love God fully and completely, with, not just some of your being, some of the time, but with all of your being, all of the time. 

          Then, almost without taking a breath, Jesus said, “there is another commandment like it”.  The other one is a practical expression of the first one:  “You shall love your neighbor as yourself”.   

          Jesus is speaking, not so much about love as a feeling but, rather, love as a commitment to the well-being of others.  The only way to love and to serve God is to love and to serve our neighbors.  Neighbor can be defined as someone who lives next door or as someone, anyone in need.

          In Luke’s gospel, after Jesus speaks about the two commandments, one of the Pharisees, a lawyer, wants to know: “Who is my neighbor?”  Jesus responds by telling the story of the Good Samaritan. 

          A certain man was traveling down the road and was beaten and left for dead by robbers..  Two other travelers saw him lying in the ditch, but did nothing to help.  Then a Samaritan comes along.  He comes to the man’s assistance by bandaging his wounds and by not leaving him alone.  He takes the man to a local inn and pays for the man’s care and tells the innkeeper, if any more money is required, he’ll come back and pay whatever cost is necessary.

          The parable tells us nothing about the man in the ditch. We don’t know whether he was rich or poor, worthy or unworthy, an eminent member of society or an outcast.  We do know that he was a human being who had great need.  Two didn’t help.  But one person did. 

          That person selflessly and sacrificially crossed all sorts of boundaries to show love to a neighbor.

          In the book titled Conscience and Courage, author Eva Fogelman writes about rescuers of Jews during the Holocaust. One of the people in the book is a Polish Christian woman named Theresa Weerstra, a married young woman with three children.  A friend asks her if she will take in a four year old Jewish girl, whose parents are gone.  She answers ‘yes’.  Her husband is not so sure.  They talk that evening about whether they should take in the little girl or not.  “You’re putting our children at risk,” he says to her.  “What’s going to happen to our family?”  She responds, “We don’t want to be like those two people in the story of the Good Samaritan, do we?  You don’t want to be the Levite and me be the priest.  We can’t turn our backs.  This could be one of our children; this could be your mother needing shelter.”  The little girl was taken in, and she turned out to be the first of 450 Jews, Allied pilots and Dutch children escaping German labor roundups that Theresa Weerstra and her family rescued during the war.[2]

          To have love for neighbors it is necessary to see their needs, first, and then to refuse to say “no” when presented an opportunity to meet those needs, to satisfy their hunger, to bandage their wounds, to fill their void of loneliness with our presence. 

          Earlier this week, Alice and I watched a wonderful movie, Akeelah and the Bee.            The central character, eleven year-old Akeelah Anderson, does not have an easy life. Her father is dead. Her mom ignores her. Her brother runs with a local gang. She's smart, but her South Los Angeles environment threatens to strangle her aspirations. In response to the prodding of her principal, Akeelah participates in the spelling bee at her school.  After winning, she seeks the help of Dr. Larabee, a college English professor who coaches her through the regional competition and all the way to Washington D.C. where she competes in Scripps National Spelling Bee.    Her accomplishments lift the esteem of her South Los Angeles neighborhood.

          At the end of the movie, just before the credits begin to roll and with scenes of the special people in her life flashing on the screen, Akeelah reflects on all the people who have selflessly helped her reach her goals.  In the first person, she addresses the viewers of the movie:        

          “You know that feeling where everything feels right? Where you don't have to worry about tomorrow or yesterday, where you feel safe and know you're doing the best you can? There's a word for that, it's called love. L-O-V-E.” [3]

          Akeelah experiences the emotion of love only because she has received acts of love from people around her.

          There’s a word for our selfless and sacrificial acts of service for another.

          There’s a word for our commitment to another person’s well-being. 

          There’s a word for courageously crossing boundaries and attending to other’s needs.

          There’s a word for all of that.  It’s called love.  

          God experiences our love only when we love our neighbors as ourselves. We love our neighbors only if we serve them selflessly and sacrificially.

          John Buchanan says that “Jesus calls us to a life whose horizons are not confined to the contours of our own self but are expanded by the love of God; a life of love for neighbor; a life whose purpose and meaning are found in that love; a life, at the end of the day, that is good and full and joyful.”[4]

          L-O-V-E is how Akeelah spells love.  The church spells its love for God by loving its neighbors, anyone in need, family and strangers alike, with a selfless commitment to their well-being. 

          There is a word for the selfless acts of care we render for others.  It’s called love.