There’s a new law of this land, according to the Lord of Love. One night at supper with his friends, he looked up from the table and said, “I’m giving you a new commandment, and it’s this: love one another! Just as I have loved you, so you must love one another.” And not just one another (that’s easy enough), or your neighbour (that’s doable), but your enemy, too. By this expression of love, the Lord says, will the world know you to be a follower of Jesus. Love your enemy;
Your rich enemy,
and your poor one too.
Your gay enemy,
your straight enemy,
your conservative enemy,
your liberal enemy,
your violent enemy,
your quiet enemy,
your black enemy,
your white enemy,
your familiar enemy,
your foreign enemy. Love every expression of an enemy that you can imagine, for an enemy is likely just someone whose story you haven’t heard yet. With one exception. There is an enemy that we all share, who is diametrically opposed to the aim of all of our lives. This is the only enemy exempt from the law of the Lord. It does not deserve a single sliver of our love. This enemy is death. Death is not simply the natural end to our lives, as secularism might say. Neither is it the glorious passageway to streets of gold as religion confesses. But it is “the final enemy to be destroyed” according to the apostle Paul. Not to be accepted or loved, but to be destroyed. I know I don’t have to convince you of this. There are many of you reading this who have tasted the sting of death very recently, and some of you already this week. It’s a stinging nettle, a bitter water, a gut punch. There is nothing to love about the enemy of our lives, yet on our own, we are powerless to destroy it. Thanks be to God that the Lord of Life himself has defeated death by death and, through his action, given us the gift of life. It is the source of our gladness this Easter. This is the law of love. To reach our gladness, however, we must first walk through the valley of death. On Good Friday, join us at church at 9AM for a quiet and contemplative meeting at the grave. Bring your boots, for after the service we’ll wander through the woods together on a community hike. On Holy Saturday, consider committing to some form of silence. Keep the TV off, put your AirPods in the drawer, give an hour to prayer and meditation. And then on Easter Sunday, we’ll meet again to worship the giver of life. We’ll receive his love, and then we’ll share it with each other as we join in a meal after the service. Grace and peace,
Pastor Alexander