Acts 17:22-31
Psalm 66:8-20
1 Peter 3:13-22
John 14:15-21
Sermon by Pastor Joel
A lot has changed in the world since I was a boy growing up. When a lot of us here were young, being a man meant being tough, decisive, physically strong, and stoic. Those are all good qualities, but pushed too far, and those same men are not given permission to be emotional and vulnerable. Motherly and fatherly traits were equally split by gender roles – mothering was kind and soft, fathering was hard and strict.
Even now, when much has changed, we have trouble fully shaking those stereotypes– even though, as we see so clearly in younger parents today, they denied many of our mother and father roles that would have made life more fulfilling.
Research repeatedly shows that qualities such as empathy, other-centredness, collaboration, and openness are highly valuable leadership qualities. On the TV shows that are hits today, we see male characters expressing their emotions and female characters supporting them, and female characters expressing emotion, supported by male characters. When tragedy strikes our country, we are comforted more by a Prime Minister who weeps with us than one who vows angry, overly simplistic vengeance. And still even now, in the most important decisions of the world, we see strength elevated above compassion.
The gospel, unfortunately, often uses this same gendered language as metaphor and example. But the difference is that this represents an ideal combination of all qualities: decisiveness tempered by compassion, strength balanced by mercy, reason influenced by love.
And so, let’s ponder that important line in our second lesson, when Peter says, “, “Always be ready to make your defense… yet do it with gentleness and respect.”
In this line, we hear this: it is okay to defend yourself, to respond with strength to injustice. But do it gently and respectfully.
If only it were so easy. Gentleness is hardest precisely when we feel we need to defend ourselves. Respect is hardest when we are convinced the other person doesn’t deserve it. And humility—real humility—is hardest when we are sure we are right.
Blame evolution. Our brains were designed to protect us, so they see risk even when life is safe. When we feel threatened – physically, socially, emotionally – our brains step in like overzealous bodyguards. In that protective state, we become less open, less curious, and more certain that we are right. In psychology, this is sometimes called “defensive cognition.”
The mind tightens its grip, and we think and react. Often, we don’t even realize it is happening until the moment has passed. We have defaulted to “fight, flight, or freeze.” That’s not a moral failure—it’s biology. We respond out of instinct.
But the gospel is about not being a victim to instinct.
Both faith and psychology agree: courage is not doubling down. Courage is staying open.
Studies in recent years have shown that people who are able to express emotion and sit with vulnerability are happier and have better relationships. People who able to admit mistakes—publicly, honestly—are not weaker leaders. They are more trusted. More credible. And more resilient. When we live in that space of gentleness and respect – for others and for ourselves – we are not wasting energy building walls or protecting an image. We are free to hear the truth. We are free to tell the truth.
This is how Paul is inviting us to act, with a kind of regulated courage. A grounded presence. The ability to stay rooted in love even when we are misunderstood or maligned.
Psychologists call this emotional regulation—the capacity to remain connected to our values under stress.
You can see this quality throughout Jesus’s ministry when he is confronted by religious and political leaders, the mob of men ready to stone a woman to death, and countless other examples.
When confronted, Jesus rarely becomes defensive in the way we expect. He doesn’t scramble to protect his image. He doesn’t try to “win” arguments in the usual sense. Instead, he often tells the truth more deeply or asks a question that exposes what’s really going on.
Think of moments when religious leaders challenge him. He doesn’t react with anxiety about being misunderstood. He stays grounded. He redirects. He refuses to be controlled by the need to justify himself.
That is not passivity. It is a different kind of strength.
Courage is found in the ability to admit what you don’t know, to truly listen to another person, to see the fullness and complexity of who we are.
And telling the truth about ourselves is one of the bravest things we can do. And the most rewarding: who is stronger and more grounded in the gospel than the ones who truly know themselves?
It would, however, be hard to defy instinct on our own. A recent study on how to handle defensive people found that challenging them only made them shut down more – but making them feel socially connected and welcomed was the best way to open up.
And is that not what Jesus does in our Gospel this morning? He reminds us that we are connected and welcomed into his circle. “I will not leave you orphaned,” he promises.
Knowing we will not be abandoned, feeling that we are accepted, matters so much. One of the reasons it is so hard to admit we are wrong is that it feels like losing something – status, control, or belonging.
Jesus tells us that we can take the risk of openness, charity, and humility, because we are not alone. The Spirit abides within us. Our worth is not dependent on being right. Our value doesn’t collapse when we fail. We can, in that space, afford to be free. Free to listen. Free to change. Free to admit when we are wrong. Free to be honest with ourselves.
The Gospel cannot be achieved in a posture of defensiveness – it asks that we fight against that instinct. Someone who wants to change the world will always feel exposed, criticized, or uncertain. If our brain sees that only as a threat, we would shut down. But the Gospel moves us away from instinct to thinking and feeling, away from reflex to reason.
Here’s another way to think about it. Defensiveness assumes that our worth is fragile and must be guarded. And yet the gospel declares that our worth is already secured in relationship with God. So, when we cling tightly to being right, when we resist admitting fault, when we react instead of listen -- we are, in a sense, living as if the Gospel were not true.
We are acting as if everything depends on us. But when we trust the promise “you are in me, and I am in you”—then something shifts. We can afford to be wrong. We can make room for another person’s truth.
A defensive posture tries to protect the self at all costs. A faithful “defense” advances love and hope even if it costs something.
Today is a moment to say thank you to whoever it was in your life who helped you practice these values - decisiveness tempered by compassion, strength balanced by mercy, reason influenced by love. That person – a mother, an aunt, a sister, a teacher – and maybe a father, uncle, or brother – who demonstrated how to defend ourselves in the world, with gentleness and respect.
On Mother’s Day, we celebrate the womanly influences that made us who we are today. But also, with this day, we are elevating those qualities that make the world so much more feeling, compassionate, and caring.
The next time you feel your frustration rise, the next time you feel shame, the next time, you feel judged - Take a breath, pause, and open yourself up. Hear the wisdom of that familiar voice that showed you a better way, even though they were imperfect themselves. Recall the example of Jesus, who blended these best-of-qualities together. Remember the gospel.
Ask yourself: why am I feeling this way? What false or incomplete story am I telling myself right now? Whose need am I not seeing?
In this world, we may need to defend ourselves, and we are called to defend others. Always be ready. But take that next step gently and with respect.
Amen