If the World Hates You
February 4, 2024
Preached by Benjamin Vrbicek
Scripture Reading
John 15:18-16:4
18 “If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. 19 If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. 20 Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours. 21 But all these things they will do to you on account of my name, because they do not know him who sent me.22 If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have been guilty of sin, but now they have no excuse for their sin. 23 Whoever hates me hates my Father also. 24 If I had not done among them the works that no one else did, they would not be guilty of sin, but now they have seen and hated both me and my Father. 25 But the word that is written in their Law must be fulfilled: ‘They hated me without a cause.’
26 “But when the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, he will bear witness about me.27 And you also will bear witness, because you have been with me from the beginning.
16:1 “I have said all these things to you to keep you from falling away. 2 They will put you out of the synagogues. Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God. 3 And they will do these things because they have not known the Father, nor me. 4 But I have said these things to you, that when their hour comes you may remember that I told them to you.
“I did not say these things to you from the beginning, because I was with you.
In last week’s passage, Jesus told us he wants his followers to “bear fruit.” Bearing fruit could sound like specialized Christian jargon. Jesus simply means that he wants you to be effective in serving him. For this to happen, Jesus spoke of our relationship with him using a famous metaphor: we need to be as connected to Jesus as branches are connected to a vine. When that happens, in Jesus’s words, we bear much fruit.
Here’s the strange thing, though. If last week’s passage and this week’s passage occurred in a single conversation with Jesus, which it did, then the first lines of our passage seem strange: “If the world hates you . . .” Jesus begins. What does this imply? It implies that bearing fruit doesn’t just happen in a warm, safe greenhouse. We don’t have to be in sunny Napa Valley, California to grow grapes. Jesus means to encourage you this morning that he can grow fruit in a hostile desert. Let’s pray as we begin.
“Dear Heavenly Father . . .”
A good many years ago I remember getting a haircut and having a conversation with the woman cutting my hair. I don’t know if the conversation was as memorable to her as it was to me. I hope it was. I can’t tell you whether it was a good or bad haircut; it’s not memorable for that reason. As one does, we made small talk as she cut my hair, and I remember that in the course of answering the questions about who I was, what I did for a living, and why anyone would be a pastor, I distinctly remember the moment I was telling her about the gospel. I was telling her about how Jesus lived and died for my sins and he rose again, and when we trust him, he changes our lives, which, I said, happened to me. Again, I hope she remembers our conversation. Maybe it changed her life. I don’t know. What I remember is that at the exact time I’m mentioning all this, she leans over my forehead, combs the hair down, and puts the scissors right in front of my eyes. And I thought, Maybe I can just do this another time, a time when it’s not so dangerous to tell her about Jesus.
In v. 27, Jesus speaks of our bearing witness to him. Some versions will say testify. That’s courtroom language. It’s the language of giving a truthful account. Bearing witness to Jesus means explaining who he is, what he did, why that matters, and what should be our response.
Maybe you have a story of bearing witness that involves actual persecution, not just the threat of scissors poked in your eye. Certainly Christians throughout time have such stories of persecution. We read of these stories in the book of Acts, where men like Stephen are killed for bearing witness to Jesus. We also have stories from church history where men like Polycarp are burned at the stake. If you don’t know, Polycarp was a Christian church leader in an area called Smyrna, which is in Turkey. He died about the middle of the first century. When offered a chance to change his mind, Polycarp said, “Eighty and six years I have served him, and he has done me no wrong.” Then he added, “How then can I blaspheme my King and Savior? You threaten me with a fire that burns for a season, and after a little while is quenched; but you are ignorant of the fire of everlasting punishment that is prepared for the wicked.” What a story.
In more recent times, the most popular martyrdom is that of Jim Elliot, Nate Saint, and three other missionaries who were violently killed in Ecuador on January 8, 1956. A few years before his death, Jim Elliot famously wrote in his journal, “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose” (see Justin Taylor’s anniversary article about this at The Gospel Coalition, “They Were No Fools: The Martyrdom of Jim Elliot and Four Other Missionaries”).
I could go on, but you get the point.
Yet not all persecution looks the same. Being hated by the world is something of a spectrum. We see that in the Scripture, too. There is violent death on the one side of the persecution spectrum, and on the other side, there are snide social interactions. When Paul preaches in Athens to the social elites of his day, they don’t want to kill him. They simply scoff to one another, “What does this babbler wish to say?” (Acts 17:18). Somewhere in this spectrum of persecution we’d put financial loss, as when Christians are excluded from certain marketplaces or fired for doing things like refusing to list your preferred pronouns in your email signature.
This is getting ahead, but I start here to identify the point of Jesus’s words: he doesn’t want his followers (re: you) to be confused. That’s really kind and wise of Jesus. “If the world hates you,” Jesus begins in v. 18. Then he says, “know that it has hated me before it hated you.” He wants us to know beforehand. Yes, he wants us to bear fruit. He also wants us to know that bearing witness might not bear the kind of fruit we hope, which if we didn’t know this—if we didn’t know that following Jesus sometimes means walking hard roads—we’d become discouraged and maybe even fall away.
I want to look at this passage in three areas. Let’s just start with the theme we’re already discussing. The first point is about the clash with culture.
1. The clash with culture
This theme of the world hating Christians is sprinkled throughout the passage. By saying “the world,” Jesus doesn’t mean created things, like trees and rocks and beaches and mountains and even tornados. He doesn’t mean the created, physical world. By world, Jesus means the moral system of the world, which is at odds with the call of Christ. This is what I mean by the “clash with culture.” I won’t read all the passage again. But look again as I highlight several verses. I’ll start in v. 18.
18 “If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. 19 If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. 20 Remember the word that I said to you: “A servant is not greater than his master.” If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours. 21 But all these things they will do to you on account of my name, because they do not know him who sent me. . . . [Moving to v. 25] 25 But the word that is written in their Law must be fulfilled: “They hated me without a cause.” . . . [Moving to verse 1 of the next chapter.] 16 “I have said all these things to you to keep you from falling away. 2 They will put you out of the synagogues. Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God. 3 And they will do these things because they have not known the Father, nor me. 4 But I have said these things to you, that when their hour comes you may remember that I told them to you. (John 15:18–22, 25; 16:1–4).
David announced that we’ll be doing baptisms, Lord willing, on Easter morning. If you’re interested in that, we’d love to talk to you. We believe it’s obedient to Jesus that when we trust in him as Lord to demonstrate it through baptism. We go into the watery grave with him, and we come out in newness of life.
What does that have to do with this passage? Well, as I talk with younger children and parents about baptism, I sometimes end up saying that it might make sense to wait until the child is older. In other words, it’s not a “no”; it’s a “not yet.” And the reason for waiting for that elementary student or middle school student to get a bit older—maybe waiting until high school—is not so the person can be “more saved.” You are or aren’t a Christian. But sometimes it’s better, in the long run, to wait until that young Christian grows up a bit more. Yes, of course, waiting helps the young person’s faith deepen. There is something else I’m often waiting for, though. It can help that person to know that they are following Christ as they begin to see their friends and their peers get a bit older, so the contrast between following or not following Christ becomes more stark. In short, the clash with culture becomes more apparent.
Historically throughout the world, baptism was the mark of identification that could trigger persecution. Anybody can say they put their faith in Christ, but to be baptized meant something. Persecution has a way of clarifying our deepest identity, doesn’t it?
Now, I’m not hoping for persecution for anyone here, those who have been baptized or those who will be. Personally, I’d like to bear fruit in a greenhouse or in Napa Valley. But sometimes we know Jesus best when others around us know him least (cf. Phil. 1:6).
Anyway, this hatred, this clash with culture, that Jesus speaks of is nothing new. It began in the garden of Eden. God said to the serpent, “I will put enmity between you and the woman / and between your offspring and her offspring” (Gen. 3:15). And you flip a page in Genesis and see one brother kill another brother over, we might say, religion.
In February of 2022 (so just two years ago), an author named Aaron Renn wrote an article called, “The Three Worlds of Evangelicalism.” The article became so popular that he turned it into a book, which came out a few days ago. The book is titled Life in the Negative World: Confronting Challenges in an Anti-Christian Culture. I’ve not read the book, but I have read the article.
I don’t want to get into all the specifics of the article, but I do want to share a part of the framework Aaron Renn offers. He speaks of the United States and our relation to Christianity in three phases: positive, neutral, and negative. There was a time in the positive world when being a Christian was favored and being a Christian afforded certain advances in society. People could claim there was such a thing as a “moral majority.” That time continued until about 1994 when Renn says the US became more neutral. In the neutral world, on the whole, Christianity wasn’t favored or hated; the posture of culture was more neutral. (Again, these are generalizations.) The neutral world continued until 2014 when the US could be characterized as a negative world.
I don’t want to get into all the specifics of this dating and what it means. The article has more words than my sermon and the book is 272 pages. But I’ll tell you that this scheme maps onto my father’s career really well. He spent forty years working in different capacities for a giant global company. As he and I talked about this article, Dad told me that when he began his career in 1980, his older coworkers would have grown up in the 40s and 50s and they looked with favor on my father’s Christianity. In the 90s, his Christianity had fewer advantages. And in the end, he could see some tensions.
I don’t have a crystal ball. I don’t know where the US will be in 2044, whether in revival or violent rebellion. But we, especially Christians living in the privileged place of America, need this reminder from Jesus in v. 20, “‘A servant is not greater than his master.” If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.” Jesus had said this back in John 13 related to humility and washing feet. If Jesus washes feet, we wash feet—or some other dirty, lowly equivalent. Here, he reminds us that if not everyone loved him, indeed some hated him, we, as his followers or servants, shouldn’t expect anything different.
So that’s the first point: there is a clash between the call of Christ and our culture.
2. The comfort for Christians
The passage is not all doom and gloom. Not only is there a clash with culture, but there is comfort for Christians. I’ll draw these out fairly quickly. But look again at the wording in v. 18: “If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you.” And then look at v. 25. Jesus says, “But the word that is written in their Law must be fulfilled: ‘They hated me without a cause.’”
The comfort for you this morning might be that if people are really, really mad at you, it might not be because you’re doing Christianity wrong. If your child won’t come home to see you at Christmas, if your coworker won’t talk to you anymore, and if your neighbor won’t even return mail that’s accidentally delivered to their house instead of yours, it might not be because you’re a bad Christian—but a good one. That’s the comfort. You might be doing it wrong, and we’ll talk about that in a moment. But you might be doing everything right, and bearing fruit is still hard.
I highlight this for the same reason I think, Jesus does. Jesus knows that persecution has a way of messing with your mind. When your life is colored by persecution and suffering, you don’t know what’s true anymore. Have I been a jerk and that’s why people hate me? you wonder. Or have I been following faithfully and that’s why people hate me? Am I too worldly and no one hates me? Jesus creates a category of comfort so that you don’t go crazy.
Paul would later write to the Christians in Rome, “If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all” (Rom. 12:18). Notice the double admonition: If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.” That means we should try doubly hard to live peaceably with all. But sometimes we can’t. “If possible,” Paul writes. Sometimes peace is not possible.
There are other comforts, as in v. 21. “If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours.” Notice the second half. “If they kept my word, they will also keep yours.” I take this to mean, again, that it’s not all doom and gloom. If Jesus had called these eleven disciples out of the world, then he does that for others. When you bear witness, even in a hostile desert, you will bear fruit. Even the initial reactions of persecution might not be the final response. Sometimes, when you respond with grace and compassion, yet also conviction, that might be what God uses to change a person’s heart.
We can also find comfort in 16:1. Jesus says, “I have said all these things to you to keep you from falling away.” The idea is that the Word of Christ among the people of Christ is powerful and effective. In Genesis 1, God speaks, and galaxies fly into existence. Here, Jesus speaks, and his very words keep people from making a decisive break of faith, a deconstruction or an apostasy. Maybe that’s what Christ’s comforting Word will help you do this morning. By hearing his words, you’re being kept from turning away.
There are other comforts for the Christian. In. vv. 26–27, Jesus speaks of the helper coming, the Holy Spirit, whom Jesus calls the “Spirit of truth.” Noah Gwinn is preaching next week, and his verses say a lot more about that, so I’ll leave that to him.
3. The call of the cross
Let’s come to our last point. So far, these have been fairly clear. There is the clash with culture and the many comforts for Christians. Now we see the call of the cross. It’s the call to follow him along the path he walked for us. Jesus walked the costly road of conviction and compassion. But this can be tricky.
Most of us, I hope, want to say we are following the call of the cross. Yet how do we know we are really heeding the call of the cross? It can be tricky. This challenge is in the passage itself. Look at 16:2. Jesus says, “They will put you out of the synagogues. Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God.” These are the very actions that Paul was doing before Jesus confronted and saved him. Paul was throwing Christians out of the synagogues and killing Christians.
Did you notice the scary part of the verse, the phrase “will think.” Maybe you can put your finger on it or perhaps just your eyes. “The hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God.” What does that imply? It implies we can be deceived. It implies we can be sincere in our convictions but sincerely wrong.
I’ll give you two examples of this. The first is silly, I guess. But the point is serious in both. I was reading a book the other day, and the author quoted a survey (Matt Fuller, Be True to Yourself, 19–20). The author is British, so these statistics are from the UK, but listen to this. They suggest how we can easily look at ourselves differently than we are.
He writes, “In the West there exists the well-documented ‘Better than average syndrome.’” Then he quotes three stats. First, “98% of the UK population thinks that they have an above average IQ.” Also, he writes, “95% of the population think that they have above-average looks.” You see where this is going, right? Finally, “98% think that they’re in the top 50% of all nicest people in the UK.” And, of course, every American adds that not only do we think that’s true, but we’re certainly smarter, better looking, and nicer than people from the UK. We think, anyway.
Let me be more serious, though. How do we know we’re following the call of the cross? 98% of think we are in the top-half of all those following the call of the cross. But how do we know we’re not too worldly? How do we know that in our supposed quest for holiness, we are not really just angry and rude, and that’s why the world hates us?
So, go with me on a ride. If you leave our church and go north, you hit Walnut Street or Jonestown Road. If you go left into the city, you’ll hit Progress Ave. Now, from that interaction, depending on traffic and stoplights, in three minutes you can be in two very different places. If you go north on Progress, you’ll pass two buildings that are rainbow flag religious churches. If, however, you go into the city on Walnut, you’ll pass what I’ll call “far-far-right sign guy.” Some of you don’t drive in the city much, so I’ll tell you that sign guy puts huge signs in his yard to shock drivers. Now, yesterday he had a quote from Thomas Jefferson on one side and on the other side it said, “God bless bikers and truckers.” So that’s not too shocking. But very often he has cartoonish signs that depict democratic politicians eating babies. He has some signs connecting his views to religion.
So, who is correct and who is wrong? The rainbow flag church thinks they are doing a service to God. And Sign Guy thinks he is doing a service to God. We can be pretty sure that neither group thinks the other group is doing a service to God. Personally, I think neither of them is, at least not as well as they ought to be.
I’ll explain. Consider sign guy, he’s certainly aware, I would think, that most of the world hates him. And he has strong convictions about morality. But merely being hated for your strong moral convictions doesn’t make someone Christian. Muslims and secular atheists have strong convictions about right and wrong. Having strong moral convictions, even some of the right moral convictions, does not make a person a Christian or their message Christian. The signs are missing the very thing that makes Christianity Christianity, namely, grace, mercy, and the person and finished work of Christ. Now, I drive past weekly, not daily, so perhaps there is more of the gospel than I realize. I could be wrong. But I don’t get the sense of the gospel from what I mostly see. I don’t get a clear sense that forgiveness is for everyone who comes to the Father through the Son because Jesus lived and died, taking our punishment, and rose, defeating death, and now rules in heaven as our advocate, and he’ll come again. The signs, I think, tend to be mostly missing that.
Now for the churches with the rainbow flag, which signals a certain kind of inclusion. Not all kinds, mind you. I wouldn’t be welcome there. But what should I say about these churches? Well, I’ll say what I’m not saying first. I’m not saying everyone who attends is not a Christian, and I’m not saying everyone who leads one of those churches is not a Christian. How could I know that?
Here’s what I am saying. If you consider their whole statements of faith, that is, what they believe, many denominations that have exclusively rainbow flag churches have statements of faith that are not Christian. It’s not just one little difference.
I’ll put it like this. If you deny the authority of Scripture, if you deny the necessity of the atonement, if you deny the personal, bodily return of Christ Jesus, if you deny the deity of Christ, and if you say there are other ways to God that are not through Jesus and that all religions have saving truth in them and any faithful adherent to one’s own religion is saved, and that God-honoring sexuality is determined by you… then I am saying that is not compatible with Christianity. Indeed, holding those non-truths as truths is holding to something other than Christianity as it’s portrayed in the Bible and as it’s been practiced for the last 2,000 years.
My point is to illustrate that it’s very possible to “think we are offering a service to God,” when we are not.
Some people think they are following God because the world hates them when really they are just mean. Others think they are following God because they are being compassionate like God, but they are really just worldly. So how do we know for us?
I was texting with one of my friends at our church about this potential to deceive ourselves. “We need to see each other to see ourselves clearly,” he wrote. “Soft hearts before the Word and community.”
When I say the call of the cross, this is what I mean. Jesus is calling us to have soft hearts before his Word and the Christian community, especially the local church. We really need each other. We need our brothers and sisters to help us be those who are in the world but not of the world. And that’s so hard when many of us come to the Word and we come to church, not to be challenged but to be affirmed.
This would take another sermon, and we don’t have time for this, but people with soft hearts, over time, gain faith that becomes as strong as steel.
Conclusion
And that’s what we have the privilege of doing now as we close in communion. We have the chance to come to the Word and community with soft hearts.
In the introduction, I mentioned a man named Polycarp. When Polycarp was offered a chance to recant, he said, “Eighty and six years I have served him, and he has done me no wrong.” Then he added, “How then can I blaspheme my King and Savior? You threaten me with a fire that burns for a season, and after a little while is quenched; but you are ignorant of the fire of everlasting punishment that is prepared for the wicked.”
Not to disagree with Polycarp, but I might expand upon this quote. He’s right that the fires of eternal punishment are for the wicked. But communion helps us remember that the wicked was me. Jesus said he chose us out of the world. In v. 19 we read, “If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you.”
Communion reminds us that God chose us out of the world, not because we had followed him perfectly, but because Jesus endured the death we should have died. Or to use Polycarp’s wording: even though Jesus had done no wrong, he endured the fires of the wicked for me. On the cross Jesus became the wicked so that the wicked like us could be saved forever. The world may hate us, but God never will. And that’s an amazing story.
Let’s pray as we close and invite the music team back.
“Dear Heavenly Father . . .”
