A Sermon by Pastor Tom Lacey . . .

love: it comes (super)naturally

1Kings 3:16-28, preached by Tom Lacey at Congregational Church of Boca Raton, September 6, 2009

Bill Cosby, as usual, has a funny take on where parenting came from. "Whenever your kids are out of control, you can take comfort from the thought that even God's omnipotence did not extend to his kids. After creating Heaven and Earth, God created Adam and Eve. And the first thing He said to them was: "Don't." "Don't what?", Adam replied. "Don't eat the forbidden fruit." "Forbidden fruit? Really? Where is it?" "It's over there," said God, wondering why He hadn't stopped after making the elephants. A few minutes later God saw the kids having an apple break and He was angry. "Didn't I tell you not to eat that fruit?" the First Parent asked. "Uh huh," Adam replied. "Then why did you?" "I dunno," Adam answered. God's punishment was that Adam and Eve should have children of their own. Thus the pattern was set and it has never changed. But there is reassurance in this story. If you have persistently and lovingly tried to give your children wisdom and they haven't taken it, don't be hard on yourself. If God had trouble handling his, what makes you think it would be a piece of cake for you?"

When you get yourself a baby, love comes as well. In fact, there are two births on that most eventful day: The first is the physical one of an infant coming forth; the second is no less dramatic: the spiritual birth within the heart of parents when love pours forth. Not just one life begins at that moment. Love comes (super)naturally, and reshapes our lives time and again. Not that everyone understands this so well, the miracle of new life, that is. A country doctor went way out to the boondocks to deliver a baby. It was so far out, there was no electricity. When the doctor arrived, no one was home except for the laboring mother and her 5-year-old child. The doctor instructed the child to hold a lantern high so he could see, while he helped the woman deliver the baby. The child did so, the mother pushed and after a little while, the doctor lifted the newborn baby by the feet and spanked him on the bottom to get him to take his first breath. The doctor then asked the 5-year-old what he thought of the baby. "Hit him again," the 5-year-old said. "He shouldn't have crawled up there in the first place!"

In our story, two prostitutes, women of low reputation and questionable character, are in conflict. Both say the child is theirs, and with no witnesses, in other words, no customers in sight that morning, their case is extremely difficult to judge. The usual procedure in such difficulty would be to rely on God's judgment through the casting of sacred lots, or the taking of a special oath, or go through an ordeal. In this case however the "wisdom of God" is available directly from king Solomon. And what is this wisdom? Solomon knows the heart of a mother, the heart of love. Love, as Paul wrote in 1Corinthians 13, "bears all things." The mother would rather lose her child than her child lose his life. That she couldn't bear, not if she could help it in any way at all. Under love's power, even a woman of questionable character becomes a great protector of her own child. Solomon in his wisdom knew that the real mother would rather give her child up, than to see it killed. Our mothers fed us, nourished and protected us with their own bodies before we even saw the light of day. I don’t know anyone else who loves me enough to carry me around for nine months. A mother’s sacrifice doesn’t end there. They keep on giving. They give up sleep for the midnight feedings. They often give up personal goals to help their children achieve their goals.

Having children changes you, beyond what can be imagined. A new world is opened to us, the world of our complete devotion and faithful love unto death. With children, we catch a glimpse of what it means to live selflessly and for someone else to the point where any sacrifice that would be required in life would be granted. To have a child is to love in small portion of how God in Christ Jesus loves.

But I don't want to put too much pressure on being the perfect mother or the perfect dad. Love changes lives, but life doesn't necessarily change. It's tough to find enough time, patience, energy to keep up with demands. And when the second and perhaps even third child comes along, things really start moving fast, and so we have to adjust. Here are some of the ways having a second and third child is different from having the first. Preparing for the Birth: With the first baby: You practice your breathing religiously. 2nd baby: You don’t bother practicing because you remember that last time, breathing didn’t do a thing. 3rd baby: In your first visit to your OB you schedule the epidural. Worries: 1st baby: At the first sign of distress--a whimper, a frown--you pick up the baby. 2nd baby: You pick the baby up when her wails threaten to wake your firstborn. 3rd baby: You teach your 3-year-old how to rewind the mechanical swing. At Home: 1st baby: You spend a good bit of every day just gazing at the baby. 2nd baby: You spend a good bit of every day watching to be sure your older child isn’t squeezing, poking, or hitting the baby. 3rd baby: You spend a good bit of every day hiding from the children. A mother who has eight children was reflecting on how differently each was raised. "When the firstborn coughed or sneezed, I called the doctor. When the last one swallowed a dime, I just told him it was coming out of his allowance."

Let's be honest, we love but we are still human. Real families struggle and argue with each other, learn from and relax with each other, provide for and rejoice with each other. In fact, families that eat together, stay together. The odds that 12- to 17-year-olds will smoke, drink, or use marijuana rise as the number of meals they have with their parents declines. Only six percent of kids who eat dinner with their parents six or more times a week smoke, compared with 24 percent of those who eat dinner with their parents twice a week or less; for marijuana use, it's 12 percent, compared with 35 percent. Parents who eat meals with their kids know where they are after school and on weekends, and who are involved in their children's school activities and academics are likeliest to be parents of kids who don't smoke, drink, or use marijuana or other illegal drugs. Joseph A. Califano Jr.

In the good old days, eating together was par for the course; it was just the way it was; there was no choice in the matter. Basically, mom cooked, and the family ate. It was a sacrifice for mom to do that each and every day, year after year. But it was the expected norm--and families thrived on it. Without someone sacrificing for others, families are lost. I'm not saying it has to be only one, but someone has to do it. As David McKechnie writes, "Mark it down. Anytime you see a happy family, it did not happen by accident. Somebody sacrificed. That person sacrificed convenience, comfort, time, power, and the right to make unilateral decisions. There is no success without sacrifice. We live in the era of the pampered athlete, executive, politician, educator, student ... and nation. What has happened to sacrifice? Sacrifice is the sacrament of love."

Of course not everything we do for others feels like sacrifice. When the good and the benefits outweigh what is lost, then it isn’t sacrifice at all. It’s love. Time with those we are given to love is time spent with our heart, time with our soul, time with our peace. There is no greater joy afforded us here by our good and compassionate God than to have someone to love. There is no greater direction given by our kind and faithful God than to give us someone to love. We are meant to follow our bliss, follow our passion. Now not everyone will always agree with us about what should be our bliss, like the time when a woman got on a bus holding a baby. The bus driver said: "That's the ugliest baby I've ever seen." In a huff, the woman slammed her fare into the fare box and took a seat. The man next to her asked her what was wrong. "The bus driver insulted me," she fumed. The man sympathized and said, "Why, he's a public servant and shouldn't insult passengers." "You're right. I think I'll go back up there and give him a piece of my mind." "That's a good idea," the man said. "Here, let me hold your monkey." We love because we love, simple as that.

But you know, love is not just an emotion to be shared between mom and child. Love is a practice of living shared between me and you, you and others. It is a way of life to which God calls us, Christ shows us, and the Spirit leads us. God’s voice on this matter has been clear for thousand of years, from the Hebrew Scriptures through the Christian ones, and through the voice of modern day dreams for unity, brother and sisterhood. The call stretches beyond family boundaries to incorporate, the friend, the neighbor, the stranger, and the needy.  Edith Spector Parsons said it well when she said, "Love is an act of the imagination. For some of us, it will be the greatest creative triumph of our lives." But even truer is the acknowledgement that love is the greatest spiritual triumph of our lives. The remarkable Anglican laywoman of the first half of the twentieth century, Evelyn Underhill, saw the implications of selfless, redeeming love. "Redemption does not mean you and me made safe and popped into heaven. It means that each soul, redeemed from self-interest by the revelation of Divine Love, is taken and used again for the spread of that redeeming work." To love is to let God be God, to change history, to let the kingdom of heaven come close.

The truth is that if we can’t love others, if we can’t move beyond thinking about ourselves, concerned with our satisfaction, if we can’t place others’ needs, fears, hopes in front of ours, we won’t really be able to love those closest to ourselves. We’ll have the emotion of love in heart, but not the works of love in their lives. Love is not an emotion. It’s a choice for compassion to hear someone else. It’s the will of reason to restrain oneself. It’s the character of strength that permits someone else to be stronger. Love is not merely an emotion. It’s a way of life, available to family, available to all. Love has to be practiced continually.

Mary Ann Bird wrote a short story entitled "The Whisper Test." It is a true story from her own life. "I grew up knowing I was different, and I hated it. I was born with a cleft palate, and when I started school, my classmates made it clear to me how I must look to others: a little girl with a misshapen lip, crooked nose, lopsided teeth and garbled speech. "When schoolmates would ask, 'What happened to your lip?' I'd tell them I'd fallen and cut it on a piece of glass. Somehow it seemed more acceptable to have suffered an accident than to have been born different. I was convinced that no one outside my family could love me. "There was, however, a teacher in the second grade that we all adored -- Mrs. Leonard by name. She was short, round, happy -- a sparkling lady. Annually, we would have a hearing test. I was virtually deaf in one of my ears; but when I had taken the test in past years, I discovered that if I did not press my hand as tightly upon my ears as I was instructed to do, I could pass the test. Mrs. Leonard gave the test to everyone in the class, and finally it was my turn. I knew from past years that as we stood against the door and covered one ear, the teacher sitting at her desk would whisper something and we would have to repeat it back ... things like, 'The sky is blue' or 'Do you have new shoes?' I waited there for those words which God must have put into her mouth, those seven words which changed my life. Mrs. Leonard said, in her whisper, 'I wish you were my little girl.'"

Love changes lives. We are meant to love.

Return to Sermons (table of contents)

Return to Homepage of the Congregational Church of Boca Raton