You are a congregation of God’s people. You have been gathered from many places, and many backgrounds. Apart from the work of God’s Holy Spirit, most of you wouldn’t have much to do with one another. And yet now, in that Spirit, you have been gathered together like this. Here you are. What are you supposed to do?
Know your people. Look around. Love your people. Don’t love humanity in the abstract, love these people in particular. This is what makes it difficult though. Humanity in the abstract doesn’t irritate you in any significant way. Humanity in the abstract doesn’t have a squeaky chair. Humanity in the abstract doesn’t have poor table manners.
This makes loving your own people a challenge, sure, but this is also what makes it such a blast. Think of it as the Holy Spirit’s obstacle course, getting you into better shape. “Here,” He says, “love that.” and the Spirit is sovereign, and is amazing in what He can do. Not only does He grant you grace to deal with other people, He — marvelous to relate — gives other people grace to deal with you. Rejoicing in this second point, incidentally, is a greater gift of grace than the first.
When you love your people — everybody here — you are not an aristocrat throwing bread to the peasants from your balcony. There is nothing condescending about it. You are one peasant sharing your bread with another. And all of us, every last one of us, receives the bread from one source only. When you receive the bread here at the end of the service, you are giving yourselves to one another. You are loving your people.