The Note in the Backpack

Picture a boy coming home from school with a note in his backpack. His teacher wants his parents to read it. He's been telling them his homework is finished, and the teacher has a different account of how things have been going.

He walks into the kitchen, sets the backpack beside the table and leaves the note inside. His dad asks how school went.

"Fine."

The boy knows the note isn't going to improve with age. Leaving it in the backpack until Thursday won't help. But before he takes it out, he wants to know what kind of mood his dad is in. So he watches his father's face. He listens to how he answers a question. He wonders whether this would go better after dinner.

The homework needs to be dealt with, and so does the dishonesty. Right now, though, the boy is working on a different problem. He's trying to decide whether it's safe to tell his father the truth.

I wonder how often we approach God that way. Ask us whether God loves us and we'll say yes without hesitating. But when we need to bring him something, especially something we've already brought him more than once, we start reading his face. We wait for a better day. We'd like to show up with a little progress first, so the conversation doesn't go the way we're afraid it will.

The trouble is that the boy's plan doesn't fix anything. The note stays in the backpack. The homework stays undone. And every hour he waits, he gets a little more used to living with the gap between what he's said and what's true.

John wrote his first letter to churches that knew a good deal about God. He wanted them to know something more personal than the right answers. "And so we know and rely on the love God has for us" (1 John 4:16). To rely on it is to put your weight on it the way you'd put your weight on a chair.

What makes that love solid enough to lean on? John has already told us a few verses earlier: "This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins" (1 John 4:10). Our feelings about God rise and fall. Some weeks we feel close to him and some weeks we don't. What he did in Jesus hasn't moved.

Many of us carry around a picture that John corrects. In it, Jesus is the kind one, and the Father is harder to please. Jesus stands between us, persuading a reluctant God to let us in. But John says the Father sent the Son. Our salvation started in the Father's love. Nobody had to talk him into it.

That changes how we come to him with the note in our backpack. He isn't waiting to find out what we did. He knew all of it when he sent Jesus for us.

Peter found this out in a fishing boat. He had worked all night and caught nothing, and then a carpenter told him where to put his nets. I suspect a professional fisherman had a few thoughts he kept to himself. He let the nets down anyway, and the catch nearly sank two boats. Peter fell at Jesus' knees and said, "Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!" (Luke 5:8).

He knew he was in the presence of someone holy, and he knew himself. Jesus answered, "Don't be afraid; from now on you will fish for people" (Luke 5:10). Nothing Peter confessed came as news to Jesus. He knew exactly whom he was calling, and he called him anyway. Even after Peter denied him three times, the risen Jesus met him on a beach, cooked him breakfast and gave him work to do.

None of this means God shrugs at sin. The cross is the clearest evidence that he doesn't. He took our sin seriously enough that his Son gave his life for us. But the same cross tells us that he wants us to come to him. We can ask for his help before we've fixed what's wrong.

John goes on to say that "perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment" (1 John 4:18). He isn't asking us to stop taking God seriously. God is holy. But a child who belongs to the family doesn't have to stand at the kitchen door studying his father's face.

So what's in your backpack? Maybe it's an old resentment you've learned to defend. Maybe it's an apology you've put off because you're waiting for the other person to admit their part first. That can turn into a fairly long wait. Maybe it's a part of your life you've quietly kept back from God, even while you've let him into the rest.

You can take it out. You don't need to time it. Tell him the truth, and ask him to change what needs changing. "The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it" (1 Thessalonians 5:24).

The study guide for "Perfected in Love," with group questions and daily readings, is at pathwaywes.com/sermons/perfected-in-love.