Fifth Sunday of Easter

John 13:31-35


The pastor at the church where I interned was, like me, raised in the Southern Baptist church. We'd occasionally joke about a particular tradition within that branch of the Church called the Love Offering. Love offerings were often taken up for a visiting preacher, guest musician, or when a minister was moving off to another congregation.


You can probably guess the inherent problem with this tradition. The amount donated could be said to directly equal the amount of love a particular congregation has for you. If the offering plates are overflowing, then there's obviously a lot of love in the room. But if all you hear is the clatter of change against the brass…well, hopefully you have a family or a pet that loves you.


I'm not sure if any pastor has ever tried using today's Gospel reading before taking up a love offering, but it would fit. We are to be known, Jesus says, by our love. Our identity as disciples of Jesus isn't related to how much of the Bible we have memorized, how often we're in church, the degrees we hold, or even by the symbols we wear. Our ID card that we show to prove that we are indeed followers of the man from Nazareth is the love we show to one another.


I've often wondered if the disciples realized how difficult a task Jesus was putting before them. Really, Jesus, in our love? Can't it just be our prayer life or our ritual or even by wearing some special shirt or something? I mean, love, that's hard. That's really hard. Because that means whenever I'm not being loving (like when I called the slow driver in front of me those creative names) I've really got no way to prove I'm actually your follower.


Loving is hard. It requires work on our part to love others. Sure some people are easy to love. But then there's that bagger at the store who always crushes the bread. And there's that person that insists on playing their radio really loud when they arrive home, no matter what the hour is.


Of course, the fact is, we're not expected to love them on our own. If we've really opened ourselves to the love of Christ, then that love has a habit of overflowing onto others. Maybe it's the fact that we realize that Jesus loves them too. Or maybe it's the fact that love changes us. Maybe it identifies us as Jesus' disciple because it slowly makes us look and act more like Jesus.


And, if we realize that love is transforming others into being more like Jesus, then loving them becomes loving Jesus. Then it's sort of like we're giving back the love that Jesus gave us. I guess our love, then, becomes an offering—a love offering.


Loving Creator, you loved us first and you desire only that your love fill us and change us into the people you created us to be. Let us never be mistaken for anything else than your followers.