The Sermon

I am very thankful for all the feedback everyone provided - it was very helpful! Many of you had several observations in common, and I applied as much as I could to do the best of my ability to communicate.

I received a lot of positive feedback at the end of the service, so I was very grateful for your help and especially for the fact that God's word was heard in a unique way, with your help, and in spite of the fact that when actually preaching I stumbled most of the way through, got things out of order, etc., even though I tried converting the text into a form that would be much easier to follow when speaking. I apparently have a long way to go before I can actually deliver the same sermon I prepare . . . but then again, as Christ's grace is sufficient, and his power made perfect in weakness, I will concede that stuttering, losing track, and struggling to speak without looking down at the paper and reading word-for-word may be just the weakness that Christ is looking for.

In any case, I thought I could thank everyone who helped speak God's word last night by providing you the final text/notes I spoke from. To God be the glory!

The Text: 1 John 5:1-8

1 Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ is born of God, and everyone who loves the father loves his child as well.

2 This is how we know that we love the children of God: by loving God and carrying out his commands.

3 This is love for God: to obey his commands. And his commands are not burdensome,

4 for everyone born of God overcomes the world. This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith.

5 Who is it that overcomes the world? Only he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God.

6 This is the one who came by water and blood—Jesus Christ. He did not come by water only, but by water and blood. And it is the Spirit who testifies, because the Spirit is the truth.

7 For there are three that testify:

8 the Spirit, the water and the blood; and the three are in agreement.


The Sermon (Draft/Notes):

Our first apartment, on Glade Mill Road, was a real Dive.

But enough for our small family at the time – just the three of us.

The living quarters left a lot to be desired; carpeted over an old, oily, and musty garage floor; a bathroom with no working shower; well water that stained everything black.

Aside from a horrible problem with jumping spiders, a refrigerator that barely worked and a freezer that didn’t work at all, the apartment’s most memorable “badge of Divehood” was its oil furnace that didn’t heat well and had gone dangerously on the fritz more than once, spewing black soot and carbon monoxide all through the apartment.

So as soon as we had the financial opportunity, we found a much more hospitable place to live.

Several years passed. I was at work when my phone rang; it was my wife. “Glade Mill Burned down!”

Our first apartment was gone; burned to the ground.

Part of our history together as a family was erased. And we knew it could have happened to us.

We were saddened and stunned, yet incredibly grateful to be alive.

But our gratefulness turned to sorrow as we learned more.

A child died. Volunteer firemen pulled Philip from the building shortly before the building collapsed. He died on the scene. His mother survived.

This brings us to our text tonight . . .

. . . where we will engage ourselves with God’s word and this tragedy to help us understand ourselves – who we are as Christians and what our Christian faith really means.

John provides us some key understanding in tonight’s scripture; he answers these questions for us:
· What does it mean to believe in Jesus Christ?
· What does it mean for how I live my life?

Belief in Jesus Christ means LOVE.
(Read Verse 1)
John provides some key tests:
· One who is born of God
· One who truly loves God (the father) loves other Christians (his child / the children of God)

Rather than implying that we don’t need to love “non-Christians”, John emphasizes the importance of Love in the Christian family – not just love for God, but a shared love for each other.

As it is, we have much higher expectations of family members than strangers.

We hold family to a higher standard when we evaluate their actions towards us, or towards other family members. We don’t exclude loving others, but we put our family as a priority.

To illustrate this:

Philip’s Mom escaped from the burning building long before the firemen found him and pulled him out.

For my wife and I, this left us with a nagging question: why was the mother able to save her own life, but not her son’s?

Was this an unfair question?

It is a terrifying thing to run into a fire. At one or more times in our lives, we all have been burned—and with that intense pain we almost immediately learned to be careful with fire, and to be afraid of throwing ourselves into it.

We don’t consider firemen heroes because they battle through a fluffy field of feathers; the heroic image is based upon their courage to face that fear we all share, and the very real risks of burning and death they face with each fire, and each rescue.

So in part, perhaps the answer to our question was FEAR. Ordinary, very human, fear. But that was not the whole story.

We learned much more of the story when a detective paid us a visit.

The initial investigation into the fire had yielded many questions, including the details of Mom’s account. Her story did not add up—especially in light of an ongoing custody dispute with Philip’s father. The detective needed a better understanding of how the apartment was laid out, what escape routes there were, and any other details that might explain the fire and the fate of Mother and child.

The two had been sleeping. Napping.

Mom on the couch; Philip—we believe—in his bedroom. The furnace was broken. (No surprise here, as it had been the same for us when we lived in the apartment.) A kerosene heater in the living room, right near the couch, provided warmth.

Mom awoke to flames and smoke, and she ran . . . not out the front door, which was just a few steps from the couch, but down the hallway, away from the door, around the back, and out through the garage.

When Philip was finally found, he was pulled from his bedroom window. This had been my son’s bedroom. It had a bay of awning windows that several times my wife and son had crawled through to get inside when they accidentally got locked out.

What did not make sense was that—even if the fire had blocked the way from the living room through the kitchen and into Philip’s bedroom—once outside, Philip’s Mom should have been able to reach or crawl through the window to get him. His bed was right by the window.

But she did not.

Now, we all make poor judgments. We all make mistakes. We crack under pressure.

We probably would give little thought to the fact that an anonymous passerby did not run into the building or crawl through the window to save Philip. We appreciate and honor the firemen who make it their job to put themselves at such risk for strangers.

But for a mother, who gave birth to and raised this child for 4 years . . . for her to act just like a stranger?

Her immediate, uncensored response was to escape herself. Perhaps we can understand this. But after escaping the building, and knowing her son still slept inside, and not do anything to save him?

Most times—if not all—our gut reaction, our impulsive, uncensored response to an emergency allows us no opportunity to “think first” and respond in a way that makes sense,

that fits the image we believe that we are . . . the one that makes us look the best. We instead look the worst.

These are the occasions that, more often than not, betray our true heart.

How long did the building burn before the firemen arrived? How long did Mom act like a stranger?

In the face of fire, in the face of losing her son forever, in the face of the burning hatred and the battle to break free from Philip’s father, what does this betray about Mom’s true heart?

Philip’s Mom is his family. We hold her to a much higher standard to Love her child than we would ever hold a stranger, or even a fireman.
Indeed, for anyone to lay down their life for Philip would be noble, and honorable, and loving. But for family, especially for one’s own children, we expect Love above all, and self-interest far behind it.

This is John’s point. If we say that we love God, but in our actions, we do not love God’s children, something is awry . . .

. . . and we ought to wonder whether we truly believe. (Read verses 1 and 2)

John is not saying that we are exempt from loving strangers or enemies, and that we must love only God’s children; rather, our actions—especially our uncensored re-actions—are evidence by which we should examine ourselves and see our true heart.

We are bound in love as God’s family. This higher standard of love for family members should be nothing surprising.

So what really is this higher standard? Does it mean only that we are ready to die for someone else if needed, but nothing else?

John sums it up like this: “. 2 This is how we know that we love the children of God: by loving God and carrying out his commands. 3 This is love for God: to obey his commands.”

Commands? Obeying? Carrying out commands? Is God giving us orders, under the duress of painful punishment if we disobey?

If we ‘fall in line’ merely to avoid pain and punishment, does that mean we love God? If we are merely nice and respectful towards others, does that mean we love them?

The words we find translated as ‘obeying’ and ‘carrying out’ have also been rendered as ‘keep’ and ‘observe’ in various Bible translations. And where we read ‘commands’ the original language signifies the standard of conduct that God has established . . . not “orders” that dictate specific action.

So John is not saying that we must “show love or else.”

Rather, obeying and carrying out God’s commands is to act in a manner which, when viewed in light of God’s holiness, his purposes, and his design for our relationships, is easily recognizable as behavior that meets God’s standards.

Keeping a checklist of commands we follow, all the ‘right things’ we do, seems an easy way to make sure we’re “on the up-and-up” with God. But this is a difficult checklist. Love by dying? Do everything right? Be perfect? It is a heavy responsibility.

But John states that God’s commands “are not burdensome.”

How so?

In the majority of this letter, John has been emphasizing that what identifies a Christian as a Christian is one’s character – a character of love. He calls us ‘children of God’ . . . we are “born of God” and as such, we share in God’s character. We have God’s commands “written on our heart”. God’s will and God’s purposes are part of our being; part of our nature; part of our very essence. A checklist isn’t necessary – even our uncensored impulses betray our transformed character.

John puts it this way: “This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith.” He assures us that “…everyone born of God overcomes the world.”

Just in case we didn’t get it, he emphasizes it even more: “5 Who is it that overcomes the world? Only he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God.”

God’s commands are not burdensome because when we have been born of God, they have become part of us. How so? Just because I can say:

“I believe in God the Father, the Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth. I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son our Lord. He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, Suffered under Pontius Pilate . . .”

…does that mean I believe? Does that mean I possess the faith John speaks of here?

What is this faith? It helps to know that the words for “faith” and “believe” in the original language are the same.

In English, we lose this connection. “Believe” to us is an intellectual judgment…when given a proposition, such as, “Ron is preaching at Masonic Village at Sewickley”, we agree that “Yes, it is true.”

Our notion of faith, on the other hand, is much closer to the words that John penned.

For example, when we say that a 4-year old has faith in his mother that she will feed, shelter, and protect him, we certainly don’t mean that the kid reasons through the alternatives and makes intellectual assent. The child trusts in his Mom; he wholeheartedly, without a thought, without any external motivation, coercion, or manipulation stakes his life on that truth. No, even more; the child is not first evaluating whether it is true, and then deciding whether or not his Mom is worthy of trust. No! He has faith in his Mom. That is, he trusts in a person, not in a proposition. His faith precedes any “belief” he has in his Mom.

So what John is saying to us is that the “the victory that overcomes the world” is not a ‘religion’ or a ‘belief’ or a ‘worldview’. God’s command to love is not a burden, but rather a release from the burden of the world.

The victory that is won by our faith is our complete surrender, our throwing of our entire life upon Christ; it is giving up our authority to direct our own life, and instead taking up the cross daily to follow Christ.

In faith, we stake our entire existence on God, the God revealed in Christ, who John tells us “did not come by water only, but by water and blood.”

“6 This is the one who came by water and blood—Jesus Christ. He did not come by water only, but by water and blood. And it is the Spirit who testifies, because the Spirit is the truth. 7 For there are three that testify: 8the Spirit, the water and the blood; and the three are in agreement.”

In John’s time, very early in the history of the church, a problem with belief was leading to a problem with faith.

It was not just that Christians were not acting in love towards each other; some were downplaying or denying that Jesus’ death on the cross was necessary for salvation. It was offensive and appalling; that God should take on this dirty human flesh, and then be beaten and executed. That God should shed blood and die--it turned the Hellenistic culture’s idea of God on its head.

Instead, these folks focused on baptism as the work of salvation. Cleansing and rebirth through water was not offensive, and was already in practice before Jesus’ time. Baptism did not require God to suffer in human flesh. It did not require blood; only water.

And if Jesus came by water only, what would be required of us? What would the higher standard be?

To get a sprinkling as an infant, or a dunk in a river? Saying the apostle’s creed? To make intellectual assent to a few key doctrines? And then we’re assured our place in heaven, and we can live how we want now?

John hammers the spike on its head. Blood – suffering, sacrifice, the cross – is Christ’s way; not just baptism. Not just a ritual.

Christ was fully incarnate; he suffered and died and rose again in order to save us. He did not come just to assure us a luxurious suite in heaven’s many mansions, but to rescue us from the fire of the depraved world we were born into, a fire whose flames we were fanning. Christ’s way is the water and the blood; and the Holy Spirit bears witness, testifies, that this is the truth.
Ritual would never do. Faith, sacrifice, Love – these are the pillars of the Christian life. When we encounter someone transformed by Christ, and witness these three in action, we are astonished.

Throughout his letter, John makes this astonishing behavior his focus. Many of you may know that several words in the New Testament are translated as ‘Love’.

In English, Love means many things. “I love ice cream.” “I love my cat.” “I love you.”

In our culture, when it comes to human relationships, we are most accustomed to thinking of Love as that feeling, that force that draws us together.

The Bible does have a word for this - phileo – which emphasizes, as Vine’s expository dictionary of Biblical Words puts it; “tender affection.” However, although the New Testament uses phileo in speaking of the Love of God the Father for God the Son, and of the Love of God for his children, it “is never used in a command to men to love God.”

“Never used in a command.”

As we discussed earlier, keeping God’s commands involves living up to a standard. So God is not setting a standard that we have to feel a certain way about him. He is not giving us orders to feel warm and fuzzy about him, or about anyone else.

The standard, instead, is set by the word for Love that John uses in our text tonight, and throughout this letter; agape.

Agape is no ordinary Love. It is a selfless love that goes far beyond feeling and affection—even independent of it.

To help remind myself what agape love is all about I think of the English transliteration – a – g – a – p – e. Read in English, that’s “agape”—as in, my jaw drops open in shock and astonishment.

The kind of Love spoken of as agape provokes that kind of response; shock and awe.
It is incomprehensible, unimaginable, so far beyond any mere infatuation, goodwill, or even a hint of conditionality…all we can do is stand with our mouths agape in complete amazement at the power and fullness of such abandonment, submission, and sacrifice of self for the sole benefit of another.

This is the love that Jesus showed; this is the love by which he lived, and died.

In our economy-driven culture we have been conditioned to have faith in, and perform only when, actions or goods are exchanged for something for us, or for some sort of return on our investment.

We do not give, we pay for.

We do not receive, we earn.

In God’s economy, however, this is not the case.

John draws our attention to something completely different. In God’s economy, we give – with abandon. We receive, with no credit to ourselves.

Perhaps the truth is that a booming economy, rivers of prosperity and wealth, is really a sign of our true poverty. If all is buying and selling, working and earning, and we yield our efforts, our strength, our will to that idol, is that prosperity? Or is it a great depression?

If we cannot give without expecting a return…

If we cannot receive unless we’ve earned…

We are destitute beyond comprehension.

Our astonishment, our mouths agape, should then be not at the sight of agape in action, but rather at how lost, how poor, how wretched we truly are.


When the apartment burned down, Philip’s Mom stood outside while her son was burning inside.

The firemen were there, but had not gotten the fire under control, and had not rescued Philip.

She left.

The firemen found Philip exactly where we expected – on his bed, right by his bedroom window. They pulled him through the window.

Philip was alive.

He cried for his Mom. His last words.

But she hadn’t waited for him. She left. She had not even waited to see if he was found. And she hadn’t rescued him.

Then Philip died.


But “What if?”

What if Philip’s Mom had gone back into save him? And what if she found him, and escaped with him?

What if Mom went back in, and was overwhelmed by smoke and fire? What if they both died together?

What if . . . You were Philip?

What if your Mom left you inside? What if a stranger saved you, but outside your Mom was not there for you? And abandoned you?

What if . . . God is like Philip’s Mom?

Is your God like a fireman—a stranger to you, someone who, as far as you are concerned, doesn’t know where you are or have any idea how to find you…and when he does find you and rescue you, you don’t want him anyway?

Have you entrusted your life to a God who leaves you to suffer and die alone?

Would God die with you in order to save you, even if you could not be saved? Or refuse to be saved?

Would you do the same for another?

“6 This is the one who came by water and blood—Jesus Christ. He did not come by water only, but by water…

and blood.”

Let each of us consider ourselves. What is God saying to me? What do I need to do?

Have you been like Philip’s Mom? I have. Can God rescue Philip’s Mom? Yes. Offer yourself to God. Do not hide any longer. Call out to Christ to rescue you.

Have you believed that God is like Philip’s Mom – a God who has abandoned you, and left you to burn? Ask yourself – is that the God you see in Christ? Did Christ come to give you orders, to help you manage sin, but nothing else? Did he not stake his life on God’s faithfulness – the God who resurrected Christ; did he not astonish you by loving you enough to die for you? Ask God to rescue you.

Have you been living a “faith” of ritual only, but not a faith of transformed character, fully surrendered to God? Make a decision tonight. Commit to Christ the whole of your life, of your being, of everything that you are. Stretch beyond yourself and Love others, expecting no return.
Love your spouse, your friends, your children, your grandchildren . . . even your enemies . . . expecting nothing in return, but in the full hope that God will transform them just as he is transforming you.

Lord Jesus Christ, may we Love as you have Loved; may we become as you are; may we give our lives for others, just as you have for us—not by water only, but by water, and blood.

(Prayer)