Love

One of my favourite family activities is playing boardgames. Whether it’s Monopoly, or Risk, or Cluedo, or something more modern and complex some of my favourite memories from childhood today have been created around a table or on the floor, rolling dice and moving pieces. As a student, those family board game evenings often transitioned into board games with flatmates or with other friends.

Unfortunately some of those games have a bit of a reputation, not undeserved, for starting fights as much as they do bringing people together.

And perhaps the single thing most likely to start a fight is a simple question: who moves first?

“Who moves first?” isn’t just controversial in board games though, it’s also a controversial question in the church.

A question of, “who made the first move in your relationship with Christ?”

Because some people will say that of course it was them - they sought God and He answered. And others will say no, God was the one who reached out them, and they simply responded.

I hope in today’s gospel readings we don’t see a cause for such an argument because to me at least it seems clear: Who made the first move? God.

God sent the angels to give the shepherds good news that they couldn’t possibly have known to look for or to expect.

God provided a light in the darkness.

And when he provided that light the angels said to the shepherds, “do not be afraid.” And as you might remember, we’ve heard those words before and they’re words which are said regularly by angels when they appear to men.

But now today I’d like to draw attention to those words in the context of our reading from John’s letter.

“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.”

Perfect love casts out fear.

In sending the angels to proclaim the good news of the birth of Christ to the Shepherds, God made the first move in an act of perfect love.

And he did so in a way that was overwhelming. That offered no possibility for misunderstanding. The shepherds on that lonely hilltop had their nightly routine interrupted utterly by an unmistakable display of glory.

A display of glory so powerful and so overwhelming that it terrified them. Because they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. And then God’s perfect love cast away that terror and replaced it with a wonderful, joyful, news.

Of course, that good news itself was the first move in something even bigger. An ultimate declaration of God’s love for His creation, and of His loving pursuit of a solid relationship with us. A love so powerful that God would live amongst His people and would ultimately die a horrific death to pay the penalty for our sins.

And it’s a love which is extended especially to those who are often overlooked. Notice something: outside of Jesus’s immediate family, the first people to be made aware of his birth -and with a direct message from a choir of angels sent by God no less- was a group of shepherds. It wasn’t kings or emperors, it wasn’t religious leaders, it wasn’t the rich and influential movers and shakers of society. It was a group of working class men, most likely hired labourers or the youngest sons of families. Men whose work kept them out of participating in the daily life of the community, whose busy schedules meant they didn’t always have the full opportunity to engage in the daily worship activities that other Jewish men of the time would take for granted. Regular people, overlooked by the elites and the common people alike.

Yet it was to those regular people that God made the first move.

And he brought them from the outskirts and into the central point of the story.

Because before the angels left they sang a song, glorifying God and declaring peace on earth to those who God favours. And the very first people to stand beneath that song and to recieve that message of peace and of God’s favour were those ordinary shepherds.

And that’s part of a larger pattern that you might have noticed in the nativity story.

These early sections of the gospel narrative show a pattern, in which those God chooses to be a part of his plan are often those on the outside of society.

Elizabeth and Zechariah, the couple shamed for their inability to have children, were chosen as the parents of John the Baptist, the prophet who would prepare the way for Christ’s ministry.

Mary, in her song of joy, notes that despite her lowliness she has been looked on with favour.

In two weeks we’ll be remembering the visit of the Magi, foreigners and gentiles who were guided by a star to visit the Christ child.

And with each it is God makes the move to step into their lives and invite them to be a part of this act of love.

Now, look at how the shepherds respond to that first move.

They say, “let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, that the Lord has made known to us.”

And they go with haste, to see the newborn saviour who is the Messiah, the Lord.

And when they’ve seen him, they immediately start telling everybody all that the angels have told them. And then they return, glorfying and praising God.

And what’s wonderful here is that we see how little has changed in two thousand years. Then as now, when Christ is encountered and the love of God is experienced the reaction is to tell everybody!

Because when you experience that love, and when you see Christ and when you come to know him as the Lord and the Saviour you’re compelled to share it. You’re compelled to praise God for what he’s done!

John tells us, “since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another...we love because he first loved us.” And that’s what we see with the Shepherds: God’s love came to them, and then it moved outward from them to everyone around as they couldn’t help but share what they had seen and heard.

And that’s how it should be with us: having experienced God’s love, we should desire to share that love with others and invite them to know Him just as we do, not simply out of some sense of obligation to follow a command or to receive a reward but because we can’t do anything but. Because we’ve experienced that love and we want to pass it on. And perhaps it’s a little unfortunate that I spoke in last week’s sermon about that praise song because it’s even more appropriate right now!

Now, as we prepare to celebrate Christ’s birth in just a few days, I have one final thought to share. This week we think about love, and the focus has been very much on the all-surpassing love of God. And when we really focus on God’s love for us - a love which in the immortal words of the Apostle Paul is patient, and kind, not self-seeking or easily angered, keeps no record of wrongs; a love which does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth; a love which always protects, trusts, hopes, and perseveres- when we really focus on that love we begin to see that many of the things this world calls “love” are in fact something else. They’re a distortion. Often the “love” that is valued, and which is most promoted by our culture, is in fact control disguised as affection. Or it’s attraction and desire which seeks a temporary physical fulfillment but is afraid of true commitment. It’s about transactional relationships where people are used until they become a burden and then cast aside.

But God’s love is different. It’s a love that moves first, and that invites in those whom others would reject. A love that seeks and values the good of those to whom it is directed not because of an expected return but simply because they are loved. It’s a sacrificial love that serves instead of demanding to be served.

And it’s a love that was embodied and revealed fully in the one who the shepherds visited that night in Bethlehem.

“No one has ever seen God, but if we love one another then God lives in us and His love is perfected in us.” So let us live lives which show that perfect love to a world which desperately fails to understand what true love is. A love which casts out fear, which heals the broken, which demands to be shared.

A love which compels us to tell everyone what we have seen and heard: that the Father sent the Son to be the saviour of the world.