2018-05-07
Brooke Strong
Scripture: John 15: 9-17
Abide. This word comes up again and again in our reading for today, and also in the verses preceding this passage: Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit… If you keep my commandments you will abide in my love.
Abide. While we know what that word “abide” means in this context, it’s still not a word we commonly use in our everyday conversations. I have never heard a mother say to a young child: “Now don’t move – Abide right here!” Or a couple say, “Well, we’re not married, but we’re abiding together.” Or a conversation – “I abide in Bainbridge. Where do you abide?”
In some ways it’s kind of an old-fashioned word, maybe even a “churchy” word. Nevertheless, it is one of my favorite words. In my prayer life, the sense of “abiding” in God’s love has a deeper meaning to me than some other words used in different translations of this passage like: You will remain in my love, or live on in my love. All of these words convey pretty much the same meanings, but perhaps I like “abide” best because it speaks to me of dwelling, of God making a home in me, and my making a home in God. In fact, a word for home, the word “abode” comes from the same root: “Bidan” – to remain, or to dwell.
Another translation that gets to the heart of this meaning is Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase in “The Message” – He translates the first few verses as: “I’ve loved you the way my Father has loved me. Make yourselves at home in my love. If you keep my commands, you’ll remain intimately at home in my love. That’s what I’ve done—kept my Father’s commands and made myself at home in his love.”
Home. We probably all have our own images of what that word conjures up for us. Culturally, the word often evokes sayings like: “Home, Sweet Home” or “Home is where the heart is.” Perhaps we remember from the Wizard of Oz the important repetition of “There’s no place like home” or maybe we’re fond of Robert Frost’s quote: “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”
This passage, about abiding, about dwelling, about making a home in God’s love makes me think back on my own childhood home, the place I abided growing up. Originally a 900 square foot one story house, my parents decided that it was getting a bit small as our family grew, so they added on to this dwelling place an upstairs with 5 bedrooms and a bath, and essentially doubled the size of the house. Of course that meant reconfiguring the whole downstairs, so that, in the end, there was only one original interior wall still standing. Because my father was so handy, he liked to have the workers there while he was home, so he could help, and since he had a full time job – it meant that all this took – oh, about 12 or so years of my childhood before the project was finished. The noise, mess and dust did not, however, stop my father from inviting people over for meals, much to my mother’s chagrin. Anyone who was working on the house was invited to the table. His invitations also extended to friends, to new folks he met at work, or those he met in the neighborhood. At our house, on our table, there was always plenty of homemade wine and home-baked bread, and then other good food to complement. We had an open table in our abode – hospitality abounded. All were welcome.
Perhaps because of this, the command to “be at home in my love” has an aspect of welcome and hospitality for me. It connotes lovingly gathering people around a table, inviting them to be nourished by food, drink and conversation. It is meaningful that Jesus’ farewell discourse took place around a table, in the context of a meal, and that he then used that very meal as a way to remember him always. His disciples, his followers, felt at home in his presence, and in his love.
I wonder sometimes if my parents made their home a welcoming place because they had had the experience of feeling welcomed themselves. You see, even though this country was their home, it was not the place they were born and raised. My parents were immigrants, but were welcomed to this country, and this country became home for them. So perhaps because the first Sunday in May is designated by the UCC as Immigrant Rights Sunday, the scripture commanding us to make our home in Jesus’ love, and to love each other, has me thinking about not only my house as home, but of this country as home as well.
My parents came here in the 1950’s, my father from Italy, seeking a better life, and my mother from Switzerland, to marry him. They both came through New York, and eventually found a path to citizenship. They came at a time when over 80 percent of all immigrant visas were granted to people from northern and western European countries. They were able to get their visas renewed as required with no obstacles, until they eventually became naturalized citizens.
And, because of my family’s circumstances, and because of my luck in having been born here instead of having been brought here as an infant, I have always been an American citizen. That means I was able to spend a pretty carefree childhood of going to school and playing with friends, my teenage years looking forward to going to college. I never had to worry about being sent back to a country that I didn’t remember, where I didn’t speak, read or write the language well. I had the privilege of not having the anxiety from day to day about whether or not my parents would be deported. Because a mere twist of fate could have easily put my parents and myself at risk of deportation, the immigration issue in this country really tugs at my heart.
I believe our scripture today, which asks us to abide in God’s love, to keep God’s commandment, to lay down our lives for others, says something to us about how we are called to treat the immigrants in our country. Jesus says, “If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love.” And Jesus is very clear in his teaching about what his commandments are – they all boil down to this: “ You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength.’ and, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ When asked to clarify who he meant by “neighbor,” Jesus told the parable which we call “The Good Samaritan.” (Luke 10:25-37) The most profound implications of this story are probably lost on most of us. We hear a tale about religious men walking by and ignoring a person in need, and then a “Samaritan” coming by, and going above and beyond to help this unfortunate stranger. We have come to associate the word “good” with “Samaritan,” and so it becomes basically a story which tells us to emulate that good Samaritan.
But for the actual audience of that time, this was a truly scandalous parable. In Jesus’ day, Samaritans, broadly speaking, were seen as bad, dangerous, outsiders, the enemy, a threat to all that Jesus’ people held dear. For Jesus to hold up a Samaritan as an example of one who obeys, of one who abides by his commandment, of the one who is neighbor, the one who does the right thing by helping someone in trouble, this was disconcerting and shocking indeed. The one who abided in God’s love by keeping God’s commandment - was the foreigner.
The people who lived in Jesus’ time, like us, had a hard time figuring out how to treat foreigners. And while I want to address this issue, I don’t claim to know all the nuances of our immigration policy or situation in this country, and I realize that this is a complicated issue with no easy solution. And yet, I believe that we are called to at least think about and reflect on what is happening to our undocumented immigrants. So many of those we are deporting, especially those who have arrived through Mexico, are the ones who are trying to abide by the rules. They go to the Immigration and Customs Enforcement (the ICE) office for their regular check-ins as required, and often find themselves taken into custody right then. Some are in the process of obtaining citizenship, and detained before they finish the process. Many of them had been in the country for decades and have had permission to stay, been given work permits, and are now being deported. Cleveland immigration lawyer David Leopold says "These folks were the low hanging fruit that were not causing problems. . . They had jobs, paid taxes, raised families and obeyed the law. Year after year they reported to ICE and year after year ICE allowed them to stay.” Most do not have criminal records and have worked and lived in U.S. communities for years.1
These are people who have called this country “home.” Now they get arrested when they are trying to follow the right procedure, get detained without a chance to say Goodbye to their friends and family, get deported before they can even go back home to get their personal possessions. Jesus says, “Abide in my love. Keep my commandments, love God and neighbor.” We deport people, sending them over the border into one of the most dangerous places in all of Mexico, with no friends or relatives, little money and few possessions in the middle of the night. Jesus says, “Abide in my love. Keep my commandments, love God and neighbor.”
And what about those who were brought to this country as children, the DACA kids? Regarding them, even our current president has tweeted, "Does anybody really want to throw out good, educated and accomplished young people who have jobs, some serving in the military? Really!...."2 He said about the path to citizenship. "… Whatever they're doing, if they do a great job, I think it's a nice thing to have the incentive of, after a period of years, being able to become a citizen."3
It would be not only a nice thing, but a Christian thing. Pastor Robert Williamson Jr. says about today’s scripture passage: “The ‘friends’ for whom we should lay down our lives are those who are beloved by Jesus, not only by us ourselves. . . We are friends with one another because Jesus has first called us friends (15:15), and therefore the commandment to lay down our lives for our friends means nothing other than to lay down our lives for all those whom Jesus loves. But when we begin to talk of “those whom Jesus loves” we soon realize that this means everyone, and most especially those who have been oppressed, ostracized, and threatened with death by the System. This Jesus who calls us ‘friends’ perpetually turns the world inside out, centering the marginalized and marginalizing the centered.”4
Abide in my love. Make your home in my love. Love one another. This is a commandment for each of us, and for our church as well. Yesterday, at the Men’s Breakfast, one of the lost boys of Sudan came to share his story. I don’t know what was said, or shared, since I wasn’t there, but I hope that he have felt welcomed at the gathering, that around a table as a meal was shared, that stories were recounted, and hearts were opened to the plight of so many who have come to our country.
This sanctuary is a space for gathering around a table and sharing a meal together. The Communion meal takes me back to memories of my growing up, where, at my home, my immigrant parents always had a table with bread and wine, a table where we never knew who would be gathered there, where family and friends and strangers came together. This is what it is to make our home in God’s love, to abide by God’s commandment – that our hearts, our homes, our church, our nation become a place where we abide in God’s love, where God’s love abides in us, where we create a home of welcome and love for all. Amen.
1http://www.cleveland.com/metro/index.ssf/2018/01/immigration_statistics_show_la_1.html
2https://twitter.com/realdonaldtrump/status/908276308265795585?lang=en Sept. 14, 2017
3 http://miami.cbslocal.com/2018/01/24/trump-open-citizenship-incentive-daca/
4 https://politicaltheology.com/the-politics-of-belovedness-john-159-17/