In this long, personal (handwritten?) letter we’ve been sharing in these weeks, we’ve covered a lot of ground. There is, of course, much more to the letter to the Hebrews than what we have seen in these four weeks. Perhaps continuing with a Bible study to examine this rich but sometimes complex part of the New Testament would be a way to follow up on this series. But even in these brief passages, we’ve touched on theology and philosophy as we examined the nature of faith and the person of the Christ. We’ve touched on history as we let the lives of those who have gone before inform us and maybe even transform us. We’ve even dabbled in poetry and art as we explored finding words and descriptions of the indescribable and attempted to touch the untouchable. So, with what shall we follow all these profound thoughts and deep discussions? Ethics, of course.
Wait, wait. You’re rolling your eyes. However, reflection on ethics is not a dry, removed academic exercise. It is answering a basic question. Remember the response to the fiery preaching of John the Baptist? In Luke’s version of the story, John comes out of the wilderness and proclaims a call to repentance and warns of the wrath to come. “And the crowds ask him, ‘What then should we do?’” (Luke 3:10 NRSV). That’s an ethical inquiry. What should we do? How will we act in light of all that we have explored? What patterns of behavior, rules of interaction, and priorities might we develop because of this unseen and unseeable truth in which we have faith?
Let’s be clear, however. This ethical standard, this list of behaviors and priorities, isn’t what gets us access to that city and the party that is taking place in a festal gathering. This isn’t an argument for works righteousness. The list we examine this week is a response to all that has gone before. It is the inevitable – should we say required? – response to the encounter with the welcoming Christ and the receiving of the unshakeable inheritance all through a faith that is an assurance of things hoped for and a conviction of things not seen. It is a response of joy, not fear. Required, even commanded, doesn’t work here, not really. It’s an outpouring of the love that has been poured into us. It is the realization that the world we live in looks different than we thought it did. We see differently than we used to see. The colors are deeper; the music is intoxicating; the people shine with the blessing of God even when they don’t realize it. Because of that new vision, relationship, and reality, we long to live a life reflecting this unshakeable kin-dom, this promised kingdom.
What then should we do? That has to be the question that comes to mind after all this. And the writer of Hebrews has a ready answer. The conclusion of this letter, this sermon, this symphony is simply this: “Let mutual love continue.” You can stop reading here, if you like. This explains it all. This is the blueprint for the life of faith. Let mutual love continue. There is more, and the writer gives us some nuance and some images for what this might look like, and we always need images. Draw me a picture, then I know what this faith life looks like, this seeing the unseeable and touching the untouchable. But dwell here for a moment. Let this seep into the marrow of your bones before you look for further manifestations. Let mutual love continue.
Continue? Yes, think about it. We didn’t invent this love thing. We aren’t the first, no matter how creative we might be; it doesn’t start with us. We stand in a tradition; we follow one who has gone before to show us the way. We follow many who have gone before. Many. There might indeed be some in your congregation who have not ever felt that love or known that they were loved. That is one of the tragedies of human existence, especially as we have configured it in our modern societies that are all about the individual. “I am a rock,” someone sang; “I am an island.” Living as a rock means you may not know of this love. You may not have experienced being loved like this. But it was there—coming from the creator of all that is and echoed by a church that wrestles with loving, has wrestled with loving from the beginning of its existence. Every now and then, we get it right, and we love those we are sent to love. A world that is loved.
So, let it continue in us. Let us be the sign that there is love in the world. Even the most broken, the most estranged, the most fearful and hurting, and the loneliest are loved and worthy of love because their creator deemed them worthy. Let it continue in and through us. Let mutual love continue.
Mutual? Yes, this love is too much for individuals. It is too much to wield, too much to bear, too much to maintain. None of us is capable of letting this love continue on our own. Let mutual love continue. This love is about gathering, partnerships, relationships, the called-out body named the church. We practice loving inside so that we can carry that love outside. We love one another so that we can love others. We experience love within the body so that we can carry it beyond the body. Open the circles we have drawn within to include and to welcome. That’s why after such a profound beginning as “let mutual love continue,” we move immediately to hospitality.
Don’t undersell hospitality. It is the face of the community. How you do hospitality determines who might consider staying to become a part of the fellowship. It is more important than we realize. That’s why the first manifestation of mutual love that is described in the thirteenth chapter of Hebrews is hospitality. We unpack each of the ideas running through our text – prison ministry, covenant-keeping in marriage, avoidance of greed, and, seeing money as our true savior, honoring those who lead in various ways. Each of these is an outgrowth of letting mutual love continue, and you can determine that word that is needed in your context. You might also ignore the lectionary’s suggestion to skip verses and spend time on staying on course in faith – keeping the main thing the main thing.
But come back before you close to the idea that one of the things that keeps us on track and lets mutual love continue among us is worshiping together regularly. And being reminded that our lives are our witness of faith. The letter you write as you preach can be personal and invitational and encouraging, but most of all, it is a sign of mutual love continuing.