Unconditional Positive Regard, or "On Love....again!"

Sermon, Evensong, 21 June 2009 – Jeremiah 10:1-16; Romans 11:25-36
There’s a wideness in God’s mercy like the wideness of the sea;
There’s a kindness in God’s justice which is more than liberty.
At first glance you might think that the two readings we have just heard are saying contradictory things. In the first reading everyone except the chosen people is wrong and, basically, there’s not a lot of hope for them; in the second, not only is it now the chosen people who are wrong, but there is plenty of hope all the same.

Well, I don’t think they contradict each other at all. I think they are both saying what God has said over and over again, in both Old Testament and New, and that we continue to fail to hear: Fear not. Do not be afraid. Not of those non-gods who scare the gentiles so much, and not of God himself. And certainly not of anything less.
There was once a theologian called Jacob the Carthusian who wrote a cheery little work called “De paucitate salvandorum” – “Of the fewness of those who will be saved”. I often wonder what he thought about his own chances. From some of his writings it would certainly appear that he took a pretty dim view of most of his colleagues. Father Faber, the Oratorian who wrote the hymn that I quoted at the start of this sermon, have quoted before and will no doubt quote again, concluded that, on the contrary, most Catholics will be saved. We would no doubt go further and say at least that most Christians will be saved. I’m fairly sure that God would go further still; and I think it was a realisation along those lines that made Paul burst out in that famous cry of adoration, which bears hearing again: Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out! Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counsellor? Who has ever given to God, that God should repay him? For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen.

We echo that in our communion service when we say “for everything in heaven and on earth is yours. All things come from you, and of your own do we give you.” But I wonder whether we really grasp the literal truth of this.

We have most of us heard the teaching that we can do nothing by ourselves, that we cannot save ourselves; that none of our virtues are our own, that we are saved quite simply by the blood of Christ, or, rather, by the love that led him to shed that blood. That can seem quite an unattractive teaching. So we are useless, are we? Even our virtues are as filthy rags, are they? Well, no. And yet it is true. The point, however, is not that God looks on our good deeds, on our efforts, on our observances, and sneers. The point is that God looks on them with love, but would look on us with love just as much without them.

When one is learning the basics of person-centred counselling, as I am, the first thing one is taught is that it is not a technique, but a way of being with a person. And that the so-called “core conditions” (that is, the characteristics of that “way of being”) are, by themselves, enough to lead the person you are listening to to find their own solutions. These core conditions are empathy, congruence (or honesty), and that thing which for us is impossible, though we strive to get as close to it as we can: unconditional positive regard. Yes, it’s jargon; but it does what it says on the tin. It means to look at a person positively (as opposed to negatively) without imposing any conditions on that positiveness. Perhaps it’s loving the sinner and hating the sin; or, as I believe Carl Rogers himself once suggested, simply…love.

Love is something we have difficulty with. We are apt either to put conditions on our love, or if we try not to, we end up becoming doormats, which is not what it is about. And that’s where another of the “core conditions” can come to rescue us: congruence. Congruence is the thing that makes you speak the truth in love; because if you are withholding an important part of yourself you are not truly loving. It doesn’t mean that you have to tell someone you love that their new hat is ghastly – but it does mean that you have to be straight with someone you love about the drinking habit that is wrecking their life. If it is important to the person who loves, then it needs to be brought into the love.

I am not claiming this is easy, and indeed my purpose in mentioning it is not primarily to tell you – or to tell myself – to do it. Indeed, only God can perfectly do it, and that is why I’m talking about it. Because that is what these readings are about. God’s love, which is unconditional; and God’s congruence, which means that God will never pretend something is OK when it isn’t. Emmanuel, God-with-us, as well as being called “Almighty God and Everlasting Father” is also called “Wonderful Counsellor”, and while it is a different sort of counsellor that is meant, I like to think that God is the model for those of us who would be counsellors, as well as for those of us who would be Christians…or Jews…or Moslems…or...

Congruence means that God, through Jeremiah, says clearly that the customs of the gentiles are worthless, that their fears are unfounded; it means that through Paul God says that the chosen people “has experienced hardening in part”. But, Jeremiah hints, all the gentiles would have to do is to stop fearing those worthless bits of wood and stone, and discover the God whose love casts out fear. And Paul states very firmly that, hardened or not, the children of Israel, once loved, are loved forever. Unconditional positive regard or what!

And so I come back to fear. There are things that we should indeed be afraid of, some for this world (such as hungry tigers or speeding cars), and some for the next (such as final impenitence, which means continuing to turn away from God until we die, still turned away). Part of congruence, part of empathy, indeed, is refusing to take away a person’s free will, their autonomy, their right to decide to destroy themselves. That loved one who is killing themselves with drink – we have no right to stop them, even if we could. And in that we are struggling to imitate God, who will never force anyone to love him…even if he could. God will not, and, yes, cannot. Because free will cannot be forced. God will remind, will threaten, will cajole, will die for you, will love to the end. But God will never force. Perhaps, indeed, that is the only thing that should frighten us: our own free will. But we have been given it to use, not to deny or to throw away. It is the sign of God’s love in us, and his love, we are told, is without repentance. With God we can dare what we can hardly dare with human beings: we can dare to risk getting it wrong. As Father Faber says: The love of God is broader than the measure of our mind.

And so, as Paul prayed for his Ephesians, let us pray: that we, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that we may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.