Sermon Blogging: The Reckless Love of God

Last week, as I was going to church, my thoughts drifted to planning this week's service. I often stick with the lectionary. I hadn't been to this particular church in over 10 weeks, as I have been on placement, so I had lost track of what was going on. But even on the journey, the lectiohnary reading was not sitting right. My thoughts drifted towards the imagery of the Church as the Bride of Christ, and somewhat naughtily, into the idea that sometimes we might act more like a Bridezilla, fussing and worrying so much over the details that we forget why we are there in the first place. By the end of the service, I was coming away certain I was on the right track, and that certainty has only grown as the week has gone by. The readings I settled on were:

1. Hosea 2: 14-20

2. Matthew 25: 1-13

3. Revelation 19:6-9

   
   

I know that I have possibly used the Matthew reading in a slightly unorthodox way, but hopefully one that enhances its core message. I've also drawn on my experience in hospitality, serving at, and helping to plan wedding feasts.

Reflection

It is fairly safe to say that I don’t have a lot of experience being a bride … however, I used to work in hospitality and regularly ended up helping to plan the catering for the wedding breakfast as well as for the almost inevitable party in the evening. Some weddings were a joy to work and to be part of. The love of the bride and groom for each other was obvious, and the most important thing was for them to share their big day with their friends and families. But others were more difficult. You probably know the sort of thing, where every detail had to be just right: the flowers, the seating plan, the food, the timings. Sometimes, the whole day seemed to be about the performance rather than the marriage itself. And often, the joy got lost in the process.

I sometimes wonder if the Church can be like that. We can become anxious about getting every detail right: the right words, the right structures, the right way of doing things. And in the middle of all that, we risk losing sight of the One we are here for.

So, we are going to look at the way God continues to call and pursue the church, even when we lose our focus and get distracted by details, forgetting the love that has called us here.

Throughout scripture, God repeatedly expresses frustration and distress at the way his people frequently wander off to do their own thing, even making idols when the waiting seems too long and too hard. But Scripture also gives us a picture of God’s relentless Love. God pursues us even when we wander, forgives us when we fail, and binds us to himself in mercy.  We see the same pattern elsewhere. The Pharisees were so focused on rules, tithing, rituals, and checklists that they missed the heart of God’s call. The disciples argued over who would sit closest to Jesus, who would have the place of honour. Even in the presence of the Messiah, they were distracted by status and control, and Jesus was continually reminding them, and us, of God’s love for all of creation.

Hosea says: “I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her… I will take you for my wife forever… in steadfast love and in mercy.”

The word allure is striking. It is the language of romance: God wooing His people back, determined not to let them go. God’s love keeps coming after us until love is restored.

The Song of Songs captures the same longing:“I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him, but found him not.”This is the cry of love that will not rest until the beloved is found. That is how God loves us, never giving up.

Jesus also uses the language of weddings. Think of the parable of the ten bridesmaids. In those days, the bridegroom would come in procession to collect his bride and lead her to the feast. Nobody knew exactly when he would arrive, and the wait could be long.

The bridesmaids had one job: to be ready, with their lamps trimmed, to go out and greet him. But as the hours dragged on, they all became drowsy. Five had prepared enough oil so that even though the night grew dark, their lamps still burned. The other five had not, and when the cry went up at midnight, “Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!”, they found themselves unready.

The point of the parable is not about being caught out by tiny mistakes. It is about watchfulness. Jesus knew that his disciples would find waiting for his return difficult. Indeed, we are specifically warned not to try to predict when Christ will come again.  So, the story is a call to stay awake spiritually, to keep faith burning, not only in bright moments but through long nights of waiting.

Interestingly, the wise bridesmaids are not praised for being clever or efficient. Their wisdom is simply that they kept their lamps burning. For us, too, readiness for Christ’s coming does not mean perfection, but faithfulness. It does not mean having everything under control, but keeping our hearts open so that when Christ comes, whether in glory at the end of time, or quietly in the face of a neighbour in need, we are awake enough to recognise him.

Finally, we come to Revelation. The book of Revelation was written to Christians who were struggling, people who faced persecution, uncertainty, and fear. They needed hope. And so, John is given this vision: a great multitude like the roar of mighty waters, rejoicing because “the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready.”

The Lamb is Christ, the one who gave his life for the world. And the bride is the Church, the people of God, clothed not in earthly splendour but in “fine linen, bright and pure,” which John explains is the righteous deeds of the saints.

This image would have spoken deeply to John’s readers. On earth, they might have felt small, powerless, even ashamed. But in heaven’s eyes, they are the beloved bride, honoured and radiant, ready for the marriage feast. The wedding imagery tells them, and us, that history is not heading towards despair or destruction, but towards union and joy.

And then comes the invitation: “Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” This is not a closed event for a select few. It is the wide-open invitation of God’s pursuing love. All are welcome who are willing to come. The end of the story is not rejection, but celebration. Not anxiety but feasting. Not loneliness, but communion with Christ and with one another.

Together, these passages show us that God’s love is not cautious, measured, or calculated. It pursues us, longs for us, calls us to readiness, reminds us of what is important, and promises us joy.